


to be so lonely

by clarkedarling



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst, F/M, HEA Guaranteed, Slow Burn, series 2 what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 47,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkedarling/pseuds/clarkedarling
Summary: sidney and charlotte cross paths again after six months apart, and are shocked to find they are almost completely unrecognisable to one another. can they find their way back to each other, or is the path too fraught with obstacles?
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & Sidney Parker, Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Comments: 706
Kudos: 635





	1. six long months

**Author's Note:**

> hello! so, i've been sitting on this one for a while. it's sort of an imagining of what would happen in series 2, filled with beloved jane austen tropes and my own thoughts. let me know what you think, i'd love any and all feedback!
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> (and yes, the title is a harry styles reference - a girl can't help it)

**_19th December, 1819_ **

Not for the first time that day, Sidney had an overwhelming urge to throw himself from the moving carriage. A bridge was coming up soon; if he was fortunate, he would be afforded a quick and painless death as he plunged into the Thames, the icy cold numbing his senses as he allowed the water to fill his lungs, dragging him under. A coward’s death, yes, but death all the same. He would welcome any sort of escape, even if it meant freezing and drowning.

“Sidney, are you even listening to me?"

Ripped from his morbid fantasy by his fiancée's incessant and tedious chatter, he couldn’t even be bothered to turn his head to look at her. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed to the view out of the little carriage window. All kinds of people were passing by, bustling in the streets even at such a late hour as it was, going about their business. He made a small humming sound that assured Eliza that he was listening (though in truth he was hardly paying her any notice) just so he wouldn't earn another lecture about 'the duties of a husband-to-be’.

She was harping on about some gossip she’d picked up at one of the many luncheons she attended. He didn’t particularly care; had never really cared about rumours or cheap talk, for there had been enough said about him in the past that he’d had to learn, quickly, how to tune it all out. Usually it was misconstrued nonsense or ruinous hearsay that did more harm than good. People like Eliza, however, thrived off of it, collecting nuggets of information the same way magpies collect silver.

“ - You remember that gentleman we met at the Pickford’s ball? Well, he’s only gone and found himself in debtor’s prison! It’s all those gaudy gifts he buys for his mistress - "

He craved a hot bath and a good night’s sleep, not an evening spent in dreary company. He would only be watching others enjoy themselves whilst he stood on the sidelines, nursing a glass of warm wine, whilst Eliza chewed some poor Baroness’s ear off.

“ - Lady Granston was only telling me a few days ago that the Rutherford’s eldest son returned from his travels with some girl, a grubby Parisian courtesan I suspect. I hope we get to meet her tonight - "

 _Nursing?_ Oh, who was he kidding? He’d be on his fourth drink of the night within an hour, his cheeks reddening, his tongue loosening, until he would eventually speak his mind - at that point Eliza would be thoroughly humiliated and insist they leave immediately before he says something that would completely besmirch their reputation altogether.

“ - Lady Bellingham hasn’t been seen in society for a good few months. It’s of public opinion that’s she’s with child. Can you imagine the shame? An unmarried - "

Before she could finish her vile sentence, the carriage came to a halt, signalling their arrival at the Rutherford Estate. Eliza’s whole demeanour changed in an instant, her usually inflated and ostentatious attitude marred by nerves. She brought a hand up to ensure that her hair was tightly in place, that she’d remembered to put in both of her earrings, and that her necklace was positioned correctly. Satisfied, she gestured for Sidney to alight the carriage first so that he could assist her out of it.

An invitation to the Rutherford’s Christmas Ball was a much coveted prize, sought after by all those that desired fame and fortune. Eliza had never been before, not even when she had been married to Lord Campion - it was hardly surprising the couple had never received invitations to jovial events such as this. For all his money, that odious man could never have bought charm or wit.

Now that she stood just outside the doors, at the foot of the steps, she looked as though she could hardly believe it. She waited until he offered her his arm before she made her way in, and eagerly gave the footman their names so that they could be properly introduced to the assembly.

“Mr Sidney Parker, and Mrs Eliza Campion.”

To her disappointment only a few heads turned, due to the lack of any sufficient titles. She had clearly expected a better reception, considering she was now the wealthiest widow in the country, hoped that people would take an interest in the man beside her. He saw her elegant facade falter ever so slightly, and felt a twinge of sadness as she appeared, if only for a split second, to be the same insecure and innocent young girl he had fallen in love with over fourteen years ago. Then, as quickly as it had crossed her features, it disappeared, and they descended the steps into the ballroom.

The Rutherford’s had spared no expense whilst planning their annual ball. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, candlelight illuminating the ballroom, glittering off of the jewels around ladies’s necks and the brass buttons on gentlemen’s army jackets. A thirteen foot tall portrait was hung on the end wall, an impressive 17th Century rendering of an old Navy Admiral who was presumably a relation. Footmen were dotted around the room, their attire altogether rather splendid, wearing powdered wigs that would have fetched a high price on the market. It was certainly a grand affair.

Eliza’s friends, the insufferable Lady Granston and the irritable Mrs Findlay, made a beeline for her, hurrying through crowds of people. Before he had a chance to make his getaway, his fiancé tugged his arm so that he was forced to stay and endure their conversation. Fortunately, as the women greeted each other, launching straight into a juicy piece of gossip one of them had wormed out of one of the guests at the ball, Sidney was able to reach out and grab a glass of elderberry wine. The sweet and sharp liquid awakened his tastebuds, as he took a deep breath.

“I’ve heard she’s here, in the house!” Mrs Findlay exclaimed, loudly, not once considering what the other guests thought about their horrid gossip; in truth, many were certainly listening in, sharing their own thoughts on the subject among their circles. “Can you believe it? The Viscount must surely know what people are saying, the shame he’s brought on his family.”

Sidney resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He very much doubted that it was as large an issue as they were making it out to be.

“I suspect she’s a harlot,” Lady Granston chimed in, her lips pursed. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she'd heard about his fortune and used her . . . charms in order to trap him.”

“What do we even know about her?” Eliza added, snatching the glass from his hands and taking a sip without asking. Now accustomed to her behaviour, Sidney knew better than to cause a scene, though he didn’t much like it. "They met in Paris? He was only there four months ago! That’s not long enough for any appropriate courtship. Of course she’s some sort of . . . _loose woman_. I guarantee she’s a foreigner too. Won’t be able to speak a word of English - though she wouldn’t have needed to!”

At this they burst into a fit of tawdry laughter, the sounds grating on his last nerve.

“Maybe they’re in love?” Sidney offered, feeling sympathetic towards the poor girl they were criticising.

Immediately he knew this was the wrong thing to say, as three pairs of judgemental eyes were suddenly upon him, boring searing holes into his own.

“Your ward was in Paris, was she not, Mr Parker?” Mrs Findlay poked. “I don’t suppose she crossed paths with the Viscount?” Clearly, she doubted that somebody as illustrious and distinguished as the Viscount would have had time to socialise with an underage socialite from the Caribbean. Her tone was dripping with venom, the spite with which she used to talk about Georgiana igniting a fierce loyalty within him.

Gritting his teeth, he responded with; “She has not mentioned such a meeting, no."

Deciding that he was of no use to their conversation, Eliza ushered her friends away from him, taking the elderberry wine with her. He didn’t mind standing alone, in fact he savoured the momentary silence. It didn’t last long, for Lady Worcester was suddenly upon him, looking rather splendid in a festive red gown.

It was evident that she had been waiting for Eliza to leave before she approached him. Her unyielding loyalty to Charlotte was the cause of her animosity towards his fiancé, something he didn’t hold against her. She handed him a glass, this time of creamy eggnog, seeing that he was without a drink. Forcing a grin upon his face, he took the eggnog, despite not particularly liking the beverage; he didn’t want to give Lady Susan another reason to condemn him.

“Mr Parker, I must admit I’m surprised to see you here,” she told him, never one for pussyfooting. “However did Mrs Campion wrangle her way onto the guest list?”

He found her candor rather refreshing. “One has to admire her perseverance,” he said, slyly, as he sipped the eggnog. It actually wasn’t half bad, the cinnamon not as aggressive on the senses as he was expecting.

Lady Susan suppressed a smile. “If that’s what it’s called,” she replied. She shot a furtive glance towards the doorway, as though she was waiting for somebody to walk through. “And what of your wedding plans? Still expecting a spring ceremony?”

Flooded with the horrid feeling of dread that rose up in his chest whenever talk of his wedding arose, he swallowed thickly. “Last I was informed yes, she wants to get married in April.”

She raised her eyebrow at his flippant response. “Well, don’t be offended when I decline the invitation,” she sighed.

“I’ll understand,” he assured her, taking another gulp of eggnog, wishing that it had even the slightest ounce of alcohol in it. He mulled over his next words carefully, deciding if he really wanted to hear the answer or not. “How is Miss Heywood these days? Mary and Tom were . . . were wondering when she’d next pay them a visit. The children miss her.” He cringed inwards at his painfully obtuse way of asking after Charlotte. What he had wanted to say was that _he_ missed her, achingly so, but couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

With a scrupulous glance at him, Lady Susan narrowed her brow. “From that question it is clear you haven’t heard anything regarding our dear Charlotte,” she answered, rather cryptically. Her soft tone and choice of phrase ‘our dear Charlotte’ suggested that she pitied him somewhat, could see his struggles.

Before he had a chance to query her words, Eliza and her cronies appeared again, batting their eyelashes at Lady Susan. It couldn’t have been more obvious what their intentions were, that they were seeking to further their own reputations by being seen with her. Lady Susan saw right through their transparent niceness.

“Lady Worcester! How wonderful to see you!” Mrs Findlay began.

“Yes, and how is the Prince Regent?” Lady Granston added, tactlessly. That earned her a sharp nudge from both Eliza and Mrs Findlay, who both knew better than to speak so openly about such delicate matters.

Remaining stoic and unflinching, Lady Susan pursed her lips. “I suspect he’s well,” she replied, plainly. She then turned to Eliza with a thin smile. “I was just discussing your wedding plans with Mr Parker here. You’ve set the date for April, I hear?”

She was suddenly quite flustered, caught up in trying to make a good impression on somebody she knew didn’t much like her. Personal feelings aside, Lady Susan had an insurmountable amount of influence over the pinnacle of society. “Yes, yes we have,” she told her, anxiously. “The weather is supposed to be rather pleasant that time of year, and I hope to hold our reception at my mother and father’s estate in Epsom.”

“That sounds . . . quaint,” Lady Susan replied, her tone flat and unenthusiastic. “Let us pray that your wedding isn’t eclipsed by anybody else’s.” Yet another ambiguous statement. What was she hinting at? What did she know that they didn’t?”

A shadow of bewilderment flashed over Eliza’s features as she too tried to decipher Lady Susan’s words, when the whole room fell silent as the footmen called out the names of the last arrivals.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your hosts the Earl of Falmouth, Lord Walter Rutherford, and his wife, the Countess of Falmouth, Lady Sybil Rutherford.”

The Earl and Countess were every bit as grand and marvellous as their titles suggested. He was a man in his late sixties, with a striking snowy white beard and a pair of circular spectacles, whilst she was rather elegant in a cream silk taffeta gown. Whilst people remained respectfully quiet, they were all craning their heads to see the infamous bride-to-be. They didn’t have long to wait, for the footman then called out the name they all wanted to hear.

“Captain Benjamin Rutherford, the Viscount Falmouth, and his fiancée, Miss Charlotte Heywood, of Willingden.”

Sidney felt as though a sheet of ice had been dropped down his back. He looked up from his eggnog to see that Charlotte Heywood was indeed stood arm in arm with the Viscount, looking ever so beautiful. In the short time they had spent apart she had matured somewhat, no longer seeming to be the young girl who had stumbled into Sanditon all those months ago. He recalled back to when he had last seen her, when she was all windswept hair, flushed cheeks, tears tumbling from her eyes - now she seemed to have grown into herself. Her lips seemed fuller, her face not as rounded. With a gulp he noticed that she’d began to embrace her figure too, her dress doing wonders for her bust. She was wearing a delicate rose coloured satin gown with a white cotton lining, her dark chestnut brown hair fashionably pinned up, curls framing her pretty, soft face. She took his breath away completely.

Beside him he felt Eliza stiffen, her jaw physically dropping. He could sense her eyes flitting between him and Charlotte, waiting with baited breath to see what he’d do. Meanwhile her friends stood with crossed arms, muttering between them. “I’ve never seen her before, have you?” Lady Granston asked, her pinched face making her appear older..

“She has a Mediterranean look about her, almost Italian,” Mrs Findlay pointed out. “I mean, look at her dark hair and olive skin. She _has_ to be common.”

Their sentiment was shared by plenty of other people around the room, who glanced between one another quizzically, waiting for somebody to say they recognised her.

As the Earl and Countess began to mingle with their guests, Charlotte and the Viscount stood back. It finally dawned on Sidney with a sudden blow to the stomach that the pair were engaged. A pang of jealousy plagued him as he watched them together with an excruciating sort of curiosity. It was perhaps not as obvious to everyone else, but he could see that she was nervous, not one to enjoy the spotlight. The Viscount, or Captain Rutherford, was comforting her, his hand atop of hers, as he whispered private words in her ear. She seemed to relax at his consoling, a dazzling smile gracing her features. She actually seemed to glow, but he couldn’t tell whether that was due to the deeper tan she had acquired since they’d last met, or her nearly-wedded bliss.

Captain Rutherford was undeniably handsome, his shoulder-length copper-coloured hair tied back with a piece of fabric that, Sidney noticed with bitterness, matched Charlotte’s gown. His features were rather chiselled, his nose and jawline striking, causing him to resemble the ancient marble statues the Greeks were fond of. He was proudly wearing an army uniform, the impressive row of medals gleaming, the vibrant red fabric allowing him to stand out amongst the black suits. He was tall too, towering over her, a good six inches bigger than she was.

Sidney couldn’t tear his eyes away, even when he knew it was only hurting him to see the two together.

Charlotte began to look around the room, hoping to find a friendly face amongst the throng of strangers. She spotted Lady Susan, and she visibly relaxed, as the couple made their way over. Before she could see him, Sidney turned his back on her, and swapped his eggnog for another elderberry wine of one of the passing footmen’s trays, suddenly craving a proper drink - something to calm his uncontrollable nerves.

“What are you doing?” Eliza hissed, tugging on his elbow.

He couldn’t answer her, instead listening intently behind him as Charlotte greeted her friend. It seemed that Lady Susan knew Captain Rutherford, as the pair were cordial with one another.

“My dear Charlotte, you look positively radiant,” Lady Susan cooed.

He had no doubt Charlotte was blushing at the compliment. “I have you to thank,” she replied, modestly. He hadn’t heard her speak in nearly six months and it made him all the more anxious. Her voice had always been one of the things that had attracted him to her, the husky and honey-like sound sending a shiver down his spine.“That dressmakers in Covent Garden you recommended me is a treasure-trove of wonderful fabrics and designs.”

“It is you who has such an exemplary eye for pretty things,” Lady Susan told her. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs Campion?”

It was as this moment it became clear that Charlotte hadn’t noticed Eliza yet, as he felt the tension creep in, his fiancée stiffening up beside him.

“Oh, Mrs Campion, I didn’t know you’d be here,” Captain Rutherford said, in a somewhat disinterested tone. “How are you enjoying the ball?" He was polite yes, but Sidney suspected that he was in the dark about the thorniness between the pair of them, or else he would have been a little more apprehensive.

“I . . . uh, I’m thrilled to have been invited, of course,” she stammered. She never tripped over her words, so he knew that seeing Charlotte here, of all places, a place she’d been clawing her way to for years and years and _years_ , had rattled her.

“I assume that’s you with your back to us, Mr Parker,” Charlotte finally said. She was surprisingly steady, even a touch of cheek to her words; just the mere mention of _assumptions_ and he was transported back to the summer. He couldn’t help but break out into a smile as he turned to face her, a smile which faltered when he saw her, the girl he loved, arm in arm with another man.

Up close she was somehow the same young country girl he’d met, and a completely unrecognisable woman all at the same time. Her features were very much the same; her endearing dimple on her chin, her arched eyebrows that made her look ever so inquisitive, and the softness to her pink lips. However, the subtle changes in her face were remarkable, especially when Charlotte Heywood was imprinted upon his brain, the image of her running through his mind every time he close his eyes.

The freckles that had made her seem so young were more prominent than ever, brought out by the recent sun she’d been basking in - her tan was testament to that. Her hair was the same rich chocolate colour, though pinned back in a much more complex fashion than she had been capable of at the last ball they had attended; he imagined that she now had a maid to help her, considering she was staying with the Rutherfords. Her eyes, most importantly, had changed the most. Treacle coloured, they had always complimented her sweet personality, open and expressive. Now they seemed somewhat distant and wistful, as though she was remembering something sad.

“Good evening, Miss Heywood,” he muttered, sheepishly. She would have realised by now that he had been hiding from her, so he felt rather foolish, like he’d been caught doing something naughty.

He couldn’t bring himself to look away, afraid that if he blinked she’d disappear again. To his surprise she met his gaze with a startling ferocity, as she gently tugged on her arm, bringing Captain Rutherford to the forefront. “Mr Sidney Parker, Mrs Eliza Campion, this is Benjamin,” she introduced, shooting a fleeting glance at Mrs Findlay and Lady Granston, who were dawdling on the outskirts of the group, listening in shamelessly. “My fiancé.”

Nobody seemed to know quite what to say. Eliza was at a loss for words, ruled by her shock. Captain Rutherford was struggling to navigate the tension. Lady Susan actually seemed to be the only one enjoying the uncomfortableness.

“Oh, I remember Parker here,” Captain Rutherford said with a click of his fingers, grinning. “We went to Harrow together, didn’t we? We’ve known each other since we were five.”

Up until he had mentioned them being old classmates, Sidney hadn’t remembered him at all; though it had been eleven years ago since they’d last shared a lesson in his defence. Now his brain was flooded with memories of Ben - for that had been what he had called himself when they were younger, before titles really mattered. Ben had been in his dorm, always eager to impress. He’d been late to grow up, always rather scrawny and lanky. Now, he had more than made up for his awkward childhood, becoming a remarkably handsome and lavishly decorated Captain in the Army. 

“Of course, yes,” Sidney replied, with a thin smile. He was in no mood to reminisce with Charlotte’s new fiancé.

“Parker here bested me in everything,” Benjamin continued, jovially. “Sports, exams, awards. He always came top of the class, and he always got the girl.” At this comment Sidney could have throttled him. He didn’t always get the girl - the fact that Charlotte was holding onto somebody else’s arm was testament to that. He tried to drown his resentment with a gulp of the elderberry wine, refusing to meet Charlotte’s eye. “You were completely smitten with Miss Eliza Wooton all those years ago, so I’m delighted to see you two engaged now.”

Eliza was either choosing to forget that she wasn’t Sidney’s first choice, or had genuinely forgotten, for she beamed smugly and looped her arm back though his, giving him a suffocating squeeze. “Only taken us fourteen years, but here we are,” she exclaimed, her voice sickly sweet. “Happier than ever!”

He chanced a glance over at Charlotte as Eliza spoke, and saw that she was regarding the pair of them with what seemed like forced apathy; as though she was trying not to read too much into their behaviour, their interactions.

“My, my, fourteen years,” Lady Susan muttered. “How different you must be from the people you first knew! I don’t think I could have waited that long, not for true love, and neither could you Charlotte my dear.”

It was difficult to tell if she was aiming that jab at him specifically, or at Eliza. She was right, of course - they _were_ different people. He no longer loved Eliza, not as he had when he was an inexperienced and foolish young boy. He felt Eliza’s grip tighten, possessively, and this time he didn’t want to see Charlotte’s reaction. Instead, he merely wished for the ground to swallow him up.

“How did you two meet?” Eliza asked; she wanted the information before anyone else. All her previous speculations - that the Viscount’s bride-to-be must have been a harlot, a suggestion that now made Sidney nauseous - had been discredited, and it was torturing her not to know. “I didn’t realise you . . . moved in the same circles.”

Her nasty jibe went unnoticed, once again, by Benjamin, who was grinning at the fond memory. “No we don't, for which I’m glad as I would have been forced to marry some stuffy society-climber, and not this beautiful and capable young woman,” he laughed, looking at Charlotte as though she was an angel he had caught and still couldn’t believe was real. It made Sidney’s skin prickle. "We became acquainted with another over the summer, in particular at the Duke of Berry’s summer residence, the Château de Rambouillet. She was riding in the grounds with her friend, Georgiana."

Of course, they met on Charlotte’s spontaneous trip to France. It had been Georgiana’s suggestion, and Charlotte had been unable to pass up the invitation; she had returned home to Willingden, a village that, of her own admission, time forgot, and found that she craved the independence and freedom Sanditon had offered her. Desperate for an escape of her own, Georgiana had planned the journey and invited her friend on the off-chance. The pair caught the first boat to Cherbourg a week after the kernel of the idea had popped in Georgiana’s head, in early August. Sidney, as her guardian, had initially been incredibly wary about the trip, especially since she had made her getaway right under his nose - he had only discovered her whereabouts when she had sent a pre-emptive postcard from the port in Dover. He loosened up somewhat when he realised that Charlotte was with her, knowing that they would look after one another, though still lost much sleep over the situation. He sent Arthur after them to convince them to return home, which he now knew to have been a foolish thing to do, as his easily-led-astray younger brother ended up staying another month with them. The three of them, after having a riotous time in France, returned in mid-October, all gloriously bronzed.

"The second I saw her, I quite literally felt my heart stop,” Benjamin continued, his vivid blue eyes practically twinkling. "I knew there would never be anybody else for me. It was fate, really.”

“Love at first sight,” Lady Susan smiled, clasping her hands together.

Whilst Sidney was still struggling to digest the news of Charlotte’s engagement, he felt Eliza grow tense. “Pardon me, did you say the Duke of Berry? As in, _the King of France’s nephew?_ ” Her voice was shrill, her eyes wide like dinner plates.

“Yes, we met him, completely by chance, at an art exhibition in Paris,” Charlotte explained, still remarkably humble.

“And you were invited to his château?” Eliza was incredulous, her shock and horror at the whole situation beginning to bubble to the surface, no longer camouflaged by her china-like facade.

Nodding, Charlotte shuffled uncomfortably on her feet. She turned to Benjamin and placed a familiar hand to his chest. Sidney noticed, with anguish, that the touch came so naturally to the pair of them. “Mr Parker here believed me to be a bad influence on Georgiana, if you can believe,” she told him, hastily changing the topic. Sidney didn’t know whether to be grateful that they had ceased talking about _'love at first sight'_ , or aghast that the subject was now him.

Benjamin chuckled, as he leant down closer to his fiancée, squeezing the hand that was looped through his arm. “The mayhem we got up to in Paris, I somewhat share the sentiment,” he said in a mock-whisper so that they could all hear. The low tone to his voice and the mischievous glint in his eye made Sidney’s blood boil. Charlotte blushed a deep crimson colour, as she reached out and took a drink of elderberry wine from one of the passing footmen. Now it was her turn to avoid his gaze.

“Shall we dance, Benjamin?” she asked, taking a hefty gulp of wine.

“Gladly, my sweet,” he replied, taking the glass from her hand and passing it over to Sidney, who barely had a chance to refuse the drink. “She’s a wonderful dancer. One of things I fell in love with her for.” Whilst the comment was unnecessary and not particularly in answer to anybody’s question, he was beaming at Sidney, the eye contact making the latter rather uncomfortable. Of course he knew of Charlotte’s passion for dancing, for that had been one of things that had made _him_ fall in love with her.

He watched as the pair crossed the room and barely stepped a single foot on the dance floor when they were descended upon by half of the ballroom, eager to meet the now infamous bride-to-be. He caught sight of Charlotte’s startled expression, overwhelmed by a barrage of questions, some more politely asked than others, and felt suddenly rather protective of her. Benjamin was yet again blind - as had almost been the theme of the evening - to her discomfort, smugly showing off his bewitching fiancée. Sidney yearned to rush to her side, whisk her away somewhere quiet so she could simply have a moment to recollect her thoughts and calm herself.

Before he could even begin planning their escape, Eliza’s clutch on him tightened as she swivelled them around so that they were facing the wall. “That scheming strumpet!” she hissed, her temper spilling out like a pot boiling over. “ _Fate?_ Poppycock! She knew what she was doing. She . . . she must have tracked him down or . . . ”

Just as Sidney went to chastise her, Lady Susan leapt to her friend’s defence, ever loyal. “Careful now,” she warned, her demeanour suddenly rather impending. “If anyone could be accused of scheming Mrs Campion, I would look no further than yourself.” Casting her dark eyes across to Sidney, they seemed to soften, to some degree. “Good evening, Mr Parker.” With that she left, no doubt to provide Charlotte some relief.

They second their audience had disappeared, Eliza finally let him go, and without uttering a single word she strode across the ballroom in a huff. She was surrounded by her harpies within seconds, the three of them resembling vultures as they began to pick apart Charlotte’s character. Any other evening and Sidney would have tried to put a stop to their incessant and vicious talk, especially when the subject of their gossip was the woman he truly loved. However, he was still reeling from the news that Charlotte had found, fell in love with, and become engaged to somebody else.

His plan to get roaringly drunk reared it’s ugly head again, as he helped himself to not one, but two more glasses of wine.


	2. a drop in the ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sidney and charlotte have a one-on-one, after a tense evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the lovely comments! i'm really enjoying writing this, so i'm glad people are receiving it well! this one is a little bit shorter, but i hope not a disappointment?
> 
> for benjamin, if anyone is curious, i'm imagining rupert friend from the 2005 version of _pride and prejudice_
> 
> enjoy!

Charlotte was most certainly the talk of the party. Everybody wanted a piece of her, dragging her from one conversation to the next. Her soon-to-be in-laws were encouraging her to, as they so mildly put it, ‘socialise’, practically offering her up on a silver platter to be poked and prodded at. She didn’t _seem_ to mind, _seem_ being the key word - she wouldn’t have let her hardship show, for she was far too polite to let anyone else feel guilty on her behalf. Besides, she had Benjamin to lean on for support.

He never once let her go, as if they were glued to one another. He was so evidently proud of his fiancée, taking any chance he could get to whirl her around the dance floor, remarking to anyone within earshot what an excellent dancer she was. He was blinded by love, of course, for Charlotte was capable at best, not as proficient in the many popular dances as some of the privately tutored ladies were; it was her enthusiasm and her spirit that made her a delight to watch. Her tense shoulders seemed to ease in those moments, when it was just the pair of them, hand in hand, swaying to the rhythm. She’d be smiling, or laughing, and he’d be looking at her as if she was the only person in the room. No matter the tempo, no matter the song, they were in perfect synchrony, Benjamin leading.

It wasn’t just the tenderness between them that made Sidney sick with envy, but the familiar contact between them. Benjamin was touching her as respectfully as was expected, his hands occasionally brushing her hip or her lower back when he thought no one was looking. Charlotte would blush, but not push him away. What was worse than their intimacy was her boldness in initiating it. Her hands weren’t shy either, as they had been with him during their dances in Sanditon or London. She was holding onto Benjamin as though she’d fall without him there, as though she couldn’t _bear_ to not touch him.

There was only so much observing Sidney could do before seething jealousy got the better of him. Emptying the contents of his glass - he wasn’t even sure what he was drinking now, or what number glass he was on - into his throat, he made a beeline for the courtyard, where he could be alone. The air was biting, discouraging other guests to leave the toasty confines of the ballroom.

He hastily pulled out a cigarette, forgoing the holder out of impatience. He craved the nauseating sweetness the tobacco would bring. Before he could satiate his appetite, the stick just between his lips, he heard footsteps behind him. Was it Eliza, coming to scold him and drag him back inside, fearful of what people might say about her reclusive fiancé? With a sigh he turned, in no mood to argue a cause he cared nothing about, and was thoroughly stunned to be face-to-face with Charlotte.

She too appeared shocked, looking up at him with wide-eyes. “I . . . sorry, I wasn’t following you,” she quickly told him, sounding short-winded. “I just . . . I needed to catch a breath of fresh air.”

Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rapidly rising and falling. She must have come straight from the dance floor. He gritted his teeth. “Captain Rutherford worn you out?” He didn’t mean for it to sound so lewd, and wanted to correct himself the second he saw her expression darken. Then, he realised that being so close to her was intoxicating, he had to push her away before he said something to make her smile, or worse, _laugh_ , making it harder than it already will be to go home without her, so he kept quiet.

“If you must know, I’ve just fled a rather stifling conversation with Lady Montpelier,” she replied, hardly reacting to his salacious comment. This surprised him, as she had been so naive, so countrified, when he had first met her. She had blushed at all sorts, now she barely rose an eyebrow. What had happened in six months to cause her to mature so much?

“These are your future peers, you need to become accustomed to being trapped in discussions you don’t like,” he told her, puffing on his cigarette.

She pursed her lips. “Just like you, hiding out here?” she retorted, wittily. Shaking her head, she turned to walk back inside, when he couldn’t help himself in calling after her.

“I must say, Miss Heywood, you’ve managed to find someone else rather quickly.” His anguish at seeing her so content with another was far too overpowering to contain any more that he didn’t care if she could hear the hurt in his voice.

If his words stung her, she didn’t let him know. “That is not fair,” she said, sternly, her eyes dark. “Should I remind you that you were the one who got engaged first?”

“Out of necessity,” he pointed out, hastily. “What do you expect - ?"

“You still _chose_ Mrs Campion,” she interrupted. “I understood the decision you made, and I did not, or do not, resent you for it. Did I not wish you every happiness? Show me that same courtesy by at least pretending to be pleased for me.”

Charlotte was being so level-headed, remaining remarkably calm whilst talking to him that it only vexed him more. Where was the girl he used to know? The one who’d speak before thinking, who’d be ruled by her emotions rather than logic, her heart over her head? “Pleased that you’ve moved on? I think not.”

“What would you prefer I do, then? Mope around, waiting for you to have a change of heart? Mr Parker, don’t be so cruel.”

He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, assure her that he wanted to be anything but callous, but knew that he wouldn’t be able to let her go. Instead, he sighed, and kept his distance. “You could have chosen anybody, and yet you found an Earl’s son. How convenient. I had thought you were different, Miss Heywood. Your appearance here tonight has proved me horribly wrong.”

Despite wanting deep down to comfort her, he seemed to be succeeding in doing the opposite. Whilst her composed exterior was starting to crack, he began to feel more and more guilty for being angry in the first place. She was right; he had, for all intents and purposes, moved on first.

“How dare you?” she hissed, stepping towards him. Her face was burning, her eyes stormy. “I’ve spent the whole night swatting away vile rumours that _your_ fiancée has been spreading about me, I can’t believe I’m having to defend myself against you, of all people!”

“I’m sorry for whatever harm Eliza has caused you,” he apologised, truly meaning it. He knew exactly the sorts of things she was saying about Charlotte, and wished he was capable of putting a stop to it. However, the alcohol and his misery were beginning to mingle, causing his words to be freer than he would have liked. “You must admit it does look rather suspicious, though, a girl of your situation engaged to a Viscount set to inherit a fortune.”

The hurt expression on her face made him feel awfully small and tugged on his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than to rewind time, to six months prior before he had left for London to fix Tom’s blasted business, and whisked Charlotte away to be married before fate intervened. Then she would be on his arm that night, or better yet, they’d be tucked up in bed in their own cottage in Sanditon, far away from the stifling confines of society life.

“ _My situation?_ And whatever do you mean by that, Mr Parker?” Before he could answer, she pressed on, her voice raised now, and wobbling ever so slightly. “A farmer’s daughter who reads books? Fortunately, Benjamin is more than capable of looking beyond the surface, and does not care a fig where I came from.”

Her comment echoed the conversation they'd, including Eliza and Lady Susan, had in the summer during the regatta. Had somebody predicted all those months ago that by Christmas they’d both be engaged, to other people, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it. Wouldn’t have wanted to.

“I’m certain he’s looked beyond the surface,” he spat, venomously, before he could stop himself. “What was it he had said earlier? _‘The mayhem we got up to’?_ Hmm.”

At this she grew redder, and puffed her cheeks out, furrowing her brow. He had clearly struck a nerve. “In Paris, Benjamin and I never . . . we didn’t . . . I’m not with child or . . . or anything of the sort. That’s the conclusion most people have reached since our engagement seems rather rushed, but I haven’t . . . we’re waiting - "

“You don’t have to explain,” he quickly dismissed, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He also didn’t want to hear about their exploits, regardless if they’d had any or not.

She was still fuming. “Of all people, I’m astounded at your estimation of me,” she said, her bottom lip wobbling. Tears were threatening to spill, pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Do you truly think that I’m no different to the sorts of women who charm men for their money?” _Like your fiancée_. She didn’t say it, but the words hung in the air. He felt foolish for condemning Charlotte, who he knew to be nothing like the society women he was so quick to condemn, when he was indeed engaged to one.

“No, I'm sorry . . . I . . . I didn't mean to insinuate anything. God, I'm afraid that the alcohol has gone straight to my head.”

She looked up at him, her features softening. “Please, be happy for me,” she begged. A tear managed to escape and ran down her cheek.

Emboldened by her sudden calmness, he took a step forward. “You could have anyone,” he repeated, quietly, filled with sorrow.

“I can’t have _anyone_ ,” she reminded him, gently, as more tears fell. Without sounding arrogant, he knew she meant him. This both filled him with hope and completely shattered his heart. Any future they could have had was long gone.

She was stood so close to him now that he could smell the subtle lavender scent that seemed to linger on her, the same scent that he could never resist. His gaze flitted between her chestnut brown eyes and her lips, lips he hadn’t been able to stop dreaming of ever since that blissful morning on the clifftops.

Before anything else could be said, Benjamin appeared in the doorway, completely oblivious to the scene before him. Charlotte hastily wiped away her tears as she turned to greet her fiancé with a wide, plastered-on grin.

“There you are darling,” he cooed, bounding over to her. “You must be freezing out here.”

“It’s rather refreshing actually,” she replied.

Benjamin reached out and caressed her cheek, as he pressed a delicate, if a little chaste, kiss to her lips, taking her by surprise. Sidney suspected that it wasn’t their first kiss, which made it all the more agonising to watch. “I hope you’re not too bored, I know these gatherings can become rather tedious.” Was he a complete blundering fool? Had he not heard the rumours floating around? She hadn’t left the hall because she was tired of the company, she had left because people were making her feel uncomfortable.

“If Miss Heywood has had her fill of the evening, I don’t mind walking her home,” Sidney quickly offered. As he spoke Benjamin swivelled around suddenly, as though unaware that anybody else had been stood there.

He caught Charlotte’s eye, and thought he saw them well up with an indescribable sadness. Benjamin, however, chuckled heartily. “That’s awfully sporting of you Parker, but Charlotte’s staying here - in one of the guest rooms, of course.” He had added the last bit slightly too late, with a glint in his eye that made Sidney’s blood boil. He prayed that it was just a poor attempt at banter, and that Charlotte really did have her own room; a quick glance at her confirmed that she did.

Holding out his arm to her, Benjamin began to lead them back inside, Charlotte not quite at ease with her fiancé as she had been previously. “Nice to see you again, Parker!” he called out, before they disappeared through the doors.

-

Sidney, sick to his stomach watching Charlotte be ogled and groped at by Benjamin, retired to the drawing room with many of the other gentlemen to play a rather gripping game of faro. He had started off with modest bets, his losses a drop in the ocean. However, his competitors began to ply him with more and more alcohol, and eventually his bets were eye-wateringly wild, far too steep than he was sensible.

He was caught in a rather precarious situation where a single loss would mean accruing debts that would certainly dent his pursestrings, when Eliza loomed over his shoulder.

“I wondered where you had disappeared off to,” she said, trying to sound unflustered and unbothered. Only could hear the malice to her tone, and chose to ignore it. “What are the stakes?”

“37,000, at my last count,” piped up his adversary. “Winner takes all.”

Her grip on his shoulders tightened, her talon-like nails digging through the thick material. “Don’t be absurd, Sidney,” she hissed in his ear, her voice like a sheet of ice sliding down his spine.

He shook her off, leaning forward in his seat. His hand wasn’t fantastic, and judging by the smirk on the other man’s face, he knew he’d lost. He was trying to bargain for time, hoping that by stalling he’d intimidate his opponent - it wasn’t working. An old hand at cards, he wasn’t easily rattled.

“Just play your hand, dear,” Eliza said, impatiently.

With a sigh, he threw the cards down, and watched as the smug bastard across from him laid out his own hand, proving himself to be the champion. “I shall expect the debt to be paid in full by the end of the week, Mr Parker.”

Before he could respond, Eliza scooped him out of the chair and dragged him back into a corner in the ballroom. “What on earth were you thinking?” she condemned him in a raised whisper, her pinched features tinged red with anger. “That’s was the amount my wedding was going to cost us, you fool!”

 _‘My wedding’_. The term never ceased to make him nauseous.

“It’s fine, I’ll . . . I’ll sell some shares or something,” he sighed, not wanting to have to justify himself there and then. He knew it was a half-witted thing to do, but he didn’t want her telling him so.

She crossed her arms, nostrils flaring. “Oh, you certainly will. Don’t expect me to fix this mess too.”

Turning back to the ball, he saw Charlotte being twirled around the dance floor by a number of gentlemen, a good many of them Benjamin’s army comrades. She was laughing heartily, full of cheer as she joined in a rather easy and lighthearted dance. It made his heart simultaneously both swell to see her so happy, and break because she wasn’t happy _with him_.

Eliza had followed his gaze, and was watching Charlotte too. Always a woman ruled by her jealousy, she couldn’t help but huff at the sight. “I have been bowing and scraping for years to earn an invitation to this ball, and here she is, the first year she ventures out of her sad little village - and engaged to a Viscount no less!” she bitterly remarked through gritted teeth.

Determined not to fuel her rage, he stayed quiet, though it pained him not to say anything. Instead, he merely observed as Lady Worcester approached Charlotte, muttering something into her ear that made her giggle.

“I mean, how she managed to have all these reputable and titled people eating out the palm of her hand I’ll never understand. You’ll have to explain it to me one day Sidney, what all these people see in her."

He’d screwed his hands into fists and tightened his jaw, but remained muted. However, his silence only spurred her to spew more hateful nonsense.

“I find there’s absolutely nothing remarkable about her in the slightest. She’s a farm girl! What could an Earl’s son possibly identify in her, besides her body - ?”

Unable to tolerate any more of his fiancée’s vicious rhetoric, he turned on her, eyes ablaze. “We’re leaving. Now.” He didn’t raise his voice, but was certain she could feel his fury. He'd had enough of her company, especially when he'd been forced to witness Charlotte's newfound happiness.

Taken aback by his anger, it took her a few moments to say anything. Bewildered, she shook her head. “No. I won’t be the first guest to leave. That’s . . . mortifying.”

The furrow in his brow deepened. “I can make a scene. That would ensure we never get another invitation again.”

Realising he would follow through on his threat, she pursed her lips and held out her arm for him to take. He didn’t even acknowledge it, storming out of the Rutherford’s estate without a single word to anybody.


	3. small talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> travelling back down to sanditon puts charlotte in an uncomfortable situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the overwhelming response, it's really see that people are liking this story so far. i'm also really enjoying reading people's prediction for the outcome, although has anyone got it right...?
> 
> please enjoy this next chapter!

**_20th December, 1819_ **

Charlotte couldn’t help the swarm of relief that flooded her when she opened Georgiana’s letter at the breakfast table. She was sat amongst her fiancé’s family; his father at the head of the table flipping through a newspaper, his mother picking at her plum cake, his sister, Jemima, picking at her nails. Whilst they had all come to accept Benjamin's engagement to a commoner, they were still rather apprehensive of her, not quite as welcoming as she would have liked. This created an incredibly uncomfortable atmosphere, especially as she was staying in their London home without a chaperone.

“What have you got there, my sweet?” Benjamin asked her, walking in through the doorway. He took a seat beside her, after planting a soft kiss on her cheek. His arrival seemed to break some of the tension, his mother and sister looking up at him with bright smiles.

“A letter from Georgiana,” she answered, passing the paper to him to inspect. “She’s invited us to call on her in Sanditon. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

She hoped he’d agree with her, for she desperately needed a break from the stifling confines of London society. His family were distant with her, and wherever they went people stared. Besides, after the incident at the ball, where she’d had the dreadful dispute with none other than Sidney Parker, she didn’t want to risk running into him again in the city.

Fortunately, Benjamin always seemed to be on the same wavelength as her. “What a fantastic idea! I’ve been anticipating a visit to your beloved Sanditon. I’m sure we can catch the 9 o'clock coach if we pack quickly.”

She gave him a wide grin. She swore she could already smell the sea air.

“Can’t your trip wait until after Christmas?” Lady Rutherford piped up. “You know we have that Christmas Eve supper planned with the Gilpin’s.”

Charlotte felt a sinking feeling in her chest, worried that she’d have to suffer for longer, knowing that her friends were all in Sanditon. However, once again Benjamin swooped in to her rescue.

“We’ll be back on the morning of Christmas Eve,” he explained, as the butler poured him a cup of tea. “Please, mother. It will be nice for Charlotte to spend some time with her friends.”

He had such a sweet way of putting things that not even his overbearing mother couldn’t say no without looking like a tyrant. With a reluctant sigh, she nodded her head, before turning back to her plum cake.

Without much hesitation, they had packed their bags and rushed out the door, saying a quick goodbye to the other Rutherfords. By quarter to nine they were stood waiting for the carriage to arrive to take them to Sanditon. Charlotte couldn’t contain her excitement, eagerly bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her arm was looped through Benjamin’s, who fuelled her enthusiasm by asking plenty of questions; how far away is the ocean, who is Mrs Griffiths, will he be able to meet some of her other friends etc.

She was eagerly answering away, when she heard a familiar voice behind her that caused a lump to form in her throat.

“See, I told you we wouldn’t be late,” Eliza Campion scolded her fiancé. They bustled through the throng of people on the busy street, with Eliza elbowing her way to the front. Sidney wasn’t far behind, clutching their bags rather grudgingly, a cigarette between his teeth. She couldn’t help the pang of sympathy that gripped her - Eliza truly did treat him despicably. “Will you put that infernal thing out - " Her eyes clapped on Charlotte’s, and she stopped herself mid sentence to glare at her, the colour draining from her face.

Charlotte couldn’t believe her misfortune. She’d sought refuge in Sanditon for, among many, _many_ reasons, to avoid crossing paths with Sidney and Eliza again, and yet here they were, about to board the carriage too.

“Oh, are you two are off to dreary little Sanditon as well then?”

As she spoke, Sidney’s gaze fell upon Charlotte, and he nearly dropped the bags in shock. A shadow of guilt fell over his expression as he immediately turned away, his broad shoulders tensed. She knew he was thinking about their conversation the night before, where he had been outrageously over the line in accusing her of moving on too quickly. She also remembered the tenderness he had for her when he realised that he’d been unfair, and tried to bury the swell of affection she felt for him quickly, to no avail.

“Yes, Charlotte received an invitation from Georgiana this morning,” Benjamin explained, when nobody else said anything.

“Georgiana?” Sidney asked, his brow knitted. With a sigh he shook his head, jaw clenched. “Of course she invited you.”

What did he mean by that? She didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding, and instead clung onto Benjamin’s arm, trying to anchor herself - _she was engaged, Sidney was engaged, stop getting drawn back in_. Fortunately, Benjamin wasn’t rattled by the appearance of Sidney and Eliza, though of course he knew nothing at all of what had transpired in the summer.

As the coach appeared, of course Eliza insisted she ascend first. She stood and waited for a moment, hoping that Sidney would offer her assistance in getting in, however he was busy assisting the coachman in securing the bags. With a huff she took her seat. Charlotte was next, though couldn’t manage the steep ascent, so Benjamin, ever the gentleman, placed his hands either side of her waist and hoisted her up with complete ease. He followed her inside, seating himself beside her. It was snug, his knee grazing hers.

By the time Sidney had stepped inside, the coachman was off, beginning their journey.

Silence had fallen over the coach, nobody uttering a word. Charlotte was unsure what to say or do, determined at least not to look at Sidney, who had chosen the seat across from her. She had brought a book with her, Jacques the Fatalist, and had began pawing through it, whilst Benjamin began to snooze. At some point after they had left London and the path had become rocky, he had reached out and held her hand, as though to reassure her. She wasn’t uneasy or worried, so felt that his handholding was unnecessary, and she was uncomfortable with his display of affection with Sidney so close. She didn’t think it was entirely fair to rub his nose in their happiness, especially considering his evident _unhappiness_ with Eliza.

An hour into their journey, the tension became too much. The prospect of another six hours cramped inside, with only a short twenty minute respite to stretch her legs, was almost unbearable. Setting aside her book, her eyes weary, she gazed out the window, intending to fall asleep for as long as possible.

“Are you going to be staying with Tom and Mary for the holidays?” Benjamin suddenly asked their travelling companions, now wide awake.

Glancing at Sidney, she watched as narrowed his eyes as Benjamin. “Yes we are. Have you met them, then?” He thought that everybody had known about her engagement besides him, and she had to stop herself from trying to reassure him.

Chuckling, Benjamin shook his head. “Oh no, not yet,” he answered, extending his hand once more to hold Charlotte’s. She took it, though could feel her cheeks burn. “But Charlotte here has told me so much about them that I feel we are close friends already.”

With Eliza and Sidney now staring at her, she offered a shy smile. For someone who liked to talk so much, she hated small talk with a passion.

“But you’ve met Miss Lambe though, Captain Rutherford?” Eliza inquired, turning her focus from her embroidery to the conversation.

“Georgiana? Yes, we met in France,” he replied, not hearing the edge to her voice. "I must say, she’s a - “

“Handful?” Eliza piped up.

Both Charlotte and Sidney gave her a cutthroat glare that stopped whatever else she had planned to say. She didn’t back down, but shuffled a little in her seat, suggesting she knew she was outnumbered, and didn’t push the topic further.

Chuckling a little awkwardly, Benjamin sought to settle the peace. “I was going to say she’s feisty. Like this one here.” He glanced across at her, grinning playfully. “Must be something in the water over in Sanditon.”

“Feisty? Is that a quality you look for then in potential wives?” Eliza asked. “Makes them rather difficult to handle.”

If he’d previously been in the dark about Eliza’s animosity towards Charlotte in particular, then something was starting to click now. Narrowing his brow, his grip on his fiancée’s hand tightened, if only to comfort her. “I’ve always liked a challenge.”

“Well, there’s a challenge, and then there’s challenging.”

“I suppose I’m of the belief that wives aren’t to be controlled,” he said, carefully. “Charlotte values her independence. She’s free-spirited; I don’t want to be the one to have to rein her in. Parker, do you agree?”

All eyes turned to Sidney, who had been following the conversation intently. Suddenly looking as though he’d been thrown in the deep end, he struggled to answer. “Well, yes I . . . I uh . . . I do think Miss Heywood is certainly . . . capable of looking after herself, and . . . uh . . . oh, you meant do I agree that wives aren’t to be controlled?” he rambled. “Yes, I uh . . . I do agree."

It was one of a small number of times she had ever seen him stumble over his words, as he was usually so calm and collected. Why was he so agitated? When he’s eyes flitted towards her hand in Benjamin’s, it was like a eureka moment - was he jealous? It would certainly have explained, though not excused, his possessive behaviour the night before.

“Marriage should be an equal partnership,” she proclaimed, knowing full well that the arrangement between Sidney and Eliza was far from equal.

Eliza raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you hope to achieve with Captain Rutherford then, Miss Heywood?”

Not particularly keen on discussing her engagement with the ever supercilious Eliza Campion soon-to-be Parker, especially not with Sidney present, Charlotte decided upon a short and concise answer. “Equality should form the basis of everything, least of all marriage.”

Daring to meet Sidney’s gaze, she swore she could have seen his lips quirk upwards a little, a smile threatening to spill onto his otherwise wretched expression. “Don’t forget mutual love and affection.”

Immediately she looked away, feeling her cheeks burn. It was a call-back to their conversation at Lady Denham’s luncheon, where she and Georgiana had first taken up arms against societal expectations. She certainly did not want to examine the foundation of her relationship with Benjamin with the current party, certainly not when ‘mutual love and affection’ came into the equation.

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Well, it all sounds far too French Revolution to me. You weren’t converted on your travels, were you my dear? Perhaps you stayed a week too long?”

-

They reached Sanditon by half three, the sun already starting to dip behind the buildings. Charlotte couldn’t remember when she had last felt so trapped, and craved solitude - or at least a moment without Eliza tutting at her and Sidney openly staring at her in front of her fiancé. Benjamin once again placed his strong hands on her hips to hoist her down, her own hands gripping his shoulders for balance.

“Enjoy your stay in Sanditon, Captain Rutherford,” Eliza said, her voice heavy and sickly, like tree sap. Before Sidney had the chance to say anything, she ushered him away, much like a owner would a misbehaving dog.

Beside her Benjamin bit his lip, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “She has him on a tight leash, doesn’t she?”

Not finding the situation as funny, Charlotte merely shrugged. She then gestured to Mrs Griffiths’s boarding house, trying to remain positive. She was damned if she’d allow Eliza to ruin Sanditon for her.

“Georgiana lives just over there."

Hand in hand, they crossed the street, their bags swinging by their sides. Eagerly, Charlotte knocked first. Georgiana’s maid, Crockett, opened the door, and smiled instantly. “Miss Heywood!” she greeted, sweetly. “Oh, Miss Lambe will be most glad to see you again!”

“Crockett, who is it?” Mrs Griffiths called out from the living room.

Resuming back to professionalism, Crockett’s posture stiffened as she held the door open wider. “It’s Miss Heywood, ma’am.” Her eyes glided over Benjamin. “And a gentleman. They’ve come to call on Miss Lambe.”

“Let them in then! You’re bringing the cold in!”

Quickly, they stepped inside and were ushered into the living room. Mrs Griffiths was, predictably, sat reading the Bible, the two Beaufort sisters playing cards by the window. They all looked up as Charlotte and Benjamin walked in, taken aback by his good looks - the swooping smug sensation that filled her when she saw other people’s jaws drop at her fiancé’s handsomeness never grew tiring.

“Miss Heywood, what a surprise!” she exclaimed, putting her Bible aside. Phillida and Julia had also stopped their card game and were staring, unashamedly open-mouthed, at Benjamin. “And . . . uh, who might this be?”

Charlotte tried not to smirk; even Mrs Griffiths, ‘the gorgon’, was getting flustered. “This is Benjamin Rutherford, my fiancé.”

Mrs Griffiths’s eyes popped out of her head. “Goodness gracious, you’re engaged?”

“I shall try to not take that personally,” she teased. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Benjamin struggling to bury a grin too.

“Oh, dear, no!” the older woman tried to amend her words, gesturing for them to take a seat. “Only, I meant I recall your . . . _outburst_ at Lady Denham’s, where you had professed marriage was not for you. Now, here you are!”

Charlotte shot Benjamin a quick look that promised him an explanation later when she saw his bemused expression.

“You see, in the summer watching over Miss Lambe and Miss Heywood here was a most demanding task,” Mrs Griffiths continued, leaning towards Benjamin. “If they weren’t bathing, half-naked, in the ocean, then they were running off to London! I had always considered Miss Heywood to be most untameable, and worried what effect she was having over my charge. Did you know they absconded to France a few months ago - without a chaperone! The amount of sleepless nights I had fretting over their safety is staggering.”

Charlotte coughed a little. There were so many things incorrect in Mrs Griffiths's ramblings. “Is Georgiana in, Mrs Griffiths?”

Irritated at having her discussion of her woes cut short, she sighed. “Yes, she’s just upstairs. Crockett’s gone to fetch her.” Then, she pressed on, as though Charlotte wasn’t in the room. “Safe to say, I’m glad to see you’ve manage to make a kept woman out of Miss Heywood. It certainly takes - "

What sort of man it took to pacify Charlotte was left ambiguous when Georgiana bounded into the room, rushing over to sweep her into a longing hug. It had only been two months since they’d last seen one another, but it was two long, stifling months without her confidant, so it had felt akin to a lifetime.

“Charlotte, I’m delighted you’re here! And so swiftly, too!” Georgiana’s smile was unmovable as she turned to hug Benjamin too. “You too, Benjamin!”

Behind them, Mrs Griffiths’s face drained of all colour. “You . . . know each other then, Mr Rutherford?”

He nodded, unable to contain his grin anymore. “We all met in France.”

Realising that they were all of the same mindset and that she had only succeeded in embarrassing herself, she quickly dismissed herself, ushering the giggling Beaufort sisters out with her. Now alone, Benjamin and Charlotte burst into raucous laughter, a rather bewildered Georgiana begging to be included in the joke.


	4. by candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of the coach ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for reading, you're all being so kind and generous in the comments. i'm especially loving reading about people's theories, although has anyone guessed it...?
> 
> please enjoy this chapter, it's a little bit longer because i've managed to squeeze a couple more hours writing time in ;)

Whilst Benjamin was seeking out space in the local inn, separate rooms of course as it would be most inappropriate if they were to share, Charlotte was accompanying Georgiana on a walk along the seafront. Their arms were looped through each others, as the stepped across the pebbles, balancing one another.

The rejuvenating sea air certainly made up for being cramped inside the coach for seven hours, the squawking seagulls and crashing of the waves a welcome respite from the infernal sound of the rocking and creaking from the carriage. Despite the biting winter weather, the wind was rather mild, and the sun setting in the horizon cast a warm glow across the town.

“It still amazes me that you’re engaged,” Georgiana suddenly said, out of the blue.

Charlotte gave her friend a bemused look, her brow furrowed and a smirk on her lips. “What is it about me that people believe me to be some unruly, unmanageable woman?”

Laughing, Georgiana gave her a squeeze. “You know that’s not what I meant!” she exclaimed, then softened. “Only, after the summer I assumed that you’d abstain from love altogether. Put a wall up, even - and nobody would have blamed you for protecting yourself, not in the slightest.”

Always grateful for Georgiana’s candour, Charlotte knew that she could always be open and honest with her and never get judged for it. “I had felt like that for a long time afterwards,” she admitted with a sigh. “I thought that I would be content to remain alone the rest of my life, knowing that I had all the love I needed from friends and family, because nothing could come close to the love I felt for _him_.”

Despite Georgiana’s somewhat tempestuous relationship with her guardian, she had learnt to accept Charlotte’s affection for him, and would no longer pull a face whenever he was mentioned. “And now?”

“And now . . .” she began, cautiously. Knowing that she couldn’t be anything but truthful with her friend, she caved. “Now I’m afraid that I don’t love Benjamin enough. I surprised myself by how much I care deeply for him, and I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if I didn’t love him, but I keep measuring up what we have with what I had with Sidney. That’s the scary thing, it _doesn’t_ measure up. Not in the slightest.”

“But you didn’t have anything with Sidney,” Georgiana gently reminded her. “You had the blossoming of an engagement, without any formal arrangement. He didn’t even have time to ask you, Charlotte.”

“Exactly!” she huffed, stopping in her tracks. It was as if she was going round in circles. “The tiny shred of a relationship that I had with Sidney made me feel more exhilarated, more alive than what I have with Benjamin. I hate how that sounds, especially considering how kind and sweet Benjamin is with me. I mean, he’s defied his parents and society by asking me to marry him, and I can’t stop comparing him to a man who chose somebody else. Does that make me an awful person?”

Tenderly, Georgiana reached out to hold her hands. “You’re the least awful person I know,” she said, smiling. “Look, there are things we both wish we could change. I wish my . . . tryst, for a lack of word, with Otis hadn’t ended the way it did. We both have to look at what we have and realise that things could have gone horrendously different and be grateful. You’re engaged to a charming, handsome Army Captain that loves you, and soon you’ll live in a marvellous house in the country with a bedroom all for me! See, how fabulous does that sound?”

Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh, and began to walk along the shore again, Georgiana by her side. “I’m so lucky to know you,” she told her, sincerely. “I wish you had been there last night at the ball, when we announced our engagement. The way some of the guests were looking at me, I wanted nothing more that for the ground to swallow me up.”

Georgiana let out a sympathetic sigh, holding her friend tighter. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry!”

“They all wanted to know where I went to finishing school and who my ancestors were. When I had nothing substantial to tell them, only that I was brought up in the countryside and my family are farmers, it was as if I’d told them I was raised by wolves! If it wasn’t for Benjamin and Susan, I wouldn’t have been able to bear it.” Confessing how she truly felt about her fiancé was like opening a floodgate; all her buried emotions were beginning to spew out, uncontrollably. “The way Sidney was looking at me when I introduced him to Benjamin, it broke my heart.”

“I must admit, he has been rather miserable of late,” Georgiana revealed, thoughtfully. “Seems quite withdrawn, very despondent.” Then, as if she had just noticed how tactless it was to talk about how Sidney was feeling when it would only hurt Charlotte more, she decided to take a polar opposite approach. “Look, I understand the circumstances were completely out of his control, but he still made a choice, and he chose her. He could have sold some of his many shares in the many businesses he invests in, but he didn’t. He sought a convenient marriage with his old flame.”

Immediately defensive of him, for she had seen his sorrowful expression when he had broke the news of his engagement to her and knew that it wasn’t a decision he took lightly, she jumped to correct Georgiana. “He had been backed into a corner. With only a week to find the money, Eliza was his best option. I don’t begrudge him for that. I only want him to be happy.”

“Can he say the same about you? Can he say he wants you to be happy, even if that means you being married to somebody else?” Ever the realist, Georgiana was looking at Charlotte with an inquisitive glare. It was as if she somehow knew about what had transpired the night before, as if she could read her mind.

Swallowing, Charlotte merely shrugged. “He accused me of moving on too quickly,” she muttered.

“How dare he!” Georgiana exclaimed. “My dear Charlotte, you need not feel guilty for seeking love elsewhere. If he was half the man you believed him to be, he’d want nothing but the best for you, and Benjamin is the best.”

Putting on a brave face, Charlotte tried to appear positive. Instead, she couldn’t deny the acute disconcerting and dubious feeling that overwhelmed her whenever she thought about choosing Benjamin over Sidney.

As always, she had to remind herself that there was no choice.

-

Sidney had desperately tried to pull himself out of the rut he had found himself in, which had been building up for months, though was brought to fruition by the announcement of Charlotte’s engagement. He was testing out many methods in order to cheer himself up, including counting all the things he was thankful for.

His family, as ever, topped the list. His nieces and nephews had grown in the time they’d been apart, and had learnt all new things that never ceased to astound him. Tom and Mary were stronger than ever, and even Arthur and Diana seemed to be suffering from less self-diagnosed maladies.

He was grateful for his work, which he had thrown himself headfirst into that last few months. He’d made considerable advancements in his company, earning a commendation or two from the men in charge.

Georgiana, now twenty, had surprised him in being better behaved for Mrs Griffiths, even venturing out more into society. He had predicted her to fly completely off the rails after what had happened between him and Charlotte, especially after the pair had ran off to France for two months, for she was a fiercely loyal person and the friendship she had forged with Charlotte was unbreakable. Instead, she had returned to England a model society woman - he half expected that she was doing it just to spite him.

He was even glad that Babington fell more and more in love with his wife as the days passed, and that she had started to return some of his affection, warming up nicely around him and his friends.

Was he pleased that Charlotte was happy? Of course. Was he pleased that she was happily engaged? No, of course not. He knew it was hypocritical of him, knew that he was being duplicitous. However, he couldn’t help how seeing her with another man made him feel. He’d experienced jealousy before, in particular when Eliza had left him for her first husband. Now, his envy back then seemed so childish, so wasted. How he felt about Charlotte with Benjamin tore him up inside, made his heart physically ache.

He was snapped out of his little counting exercise, which had become rather bitter, by the sound of Arthur and Diana bustling into the Parker household. Before yesterday, Sidney had been looking forward to reuniting with his younger brother again, even if his overly-jolly nature did grate on him occasionally. However, after discovering Charlotte and Benjamin had met whilst in France, when Arthur was supposed to be there supervising the two unmarried ladies, he was filled with a furious frustration, and demanded answers.

Jumping out of his chair he bound forward, pulling Arthur, who was mid-conversation with Mary, towards him by the shoulders. 

“Why didn’t you tell me Miss Heywood was engaged?” he hissed, aware that Eliza was only upstairs.

A little shakily, Arthur pulled himself free, his cheeks redder than usual. “Is she? Well, how fantastic!” Not the response Sidney expected.

So they hadn’t gotten engaged in France? “You didn’t know?"

“Of course I didn’t!”

“But you knew she’d met Benjamin Rutherford though?”

“Is that who she’s engaged to? Oh, that’s wonderful!”

His brother’s lively and happy-go-lucky attitude was beginning to irritate him. “Arthur, why wouldn’t you tell me about Benjamin?"

Well, I didn’t know what it had to do with you," he replied matter-of-factly, without a hint of malice, not quite understanding the accusing effect of his words. Catching Mary’s wide-eyed expression, he quickly realised that this had been the wrong thing to say, and hastily tried to amend his statement. “What I meant to say, old chap, is that I didn’t think there was anything to tell. Yes, the Viscount did appear to have some infatuation with our dear Charlotte, but so did rather a few gentlemen in Paris, and she did not seem to care a fig for any of their attentions. If I had thought that she returned his feelings, and that an engagement was inevitable, then of course I would have said something. In fact, I would have written to you all immediately.”

He was rambling now, though Sidney had stopped listening. He'd become wrapped up in his own mind. Charlotte hadn’t reciprocated Benjamin’s affection then in France either? They had only returned in October; what could possibly have happened in the last two months to make her change her mind?

He wanted to press Arthur for more information, when Eliza appeared in the doorway, conveying the scene before her with narrowed eyes. “Do I want to know what you’ve been rowing about?” she asked, rather off-handedly. “Or should I merely chalk it up to brothers just being brothers.”

Mary, who despised confrontation, chuckled to break the tension. “I think they’re settling an old bet,” she lied. She shot Sidney a rather stern look, warning him to calm down. He suspected she knew about his feelings for their previous house guest - in fact, he’d suspected it for a while. She had respected their privacy by not mentioning it to anyone, not even Eliza.

“Unless this is all too riveting for you Sidney, would you like to accompany me for a walk before dinner? My legs are still stiff from that _galling_ coach ride.” The way Eliza stressed the word ‘galling’ suggested that perhaps the company had had something to do with her discomfort.

Sighing, Sidney nodded. As much as he disliked the thought of being alone with Eliza for longer than five minutes, his own legs were beginning to cramp. Fortunately, at the mention of a walk outside with their uncle, Alicia, Jenny and Henry raced towards him from the corridor where they had been playing with their wooden blocks.

“Can we come? Can we come?”

Before Eliza could have the opportunity to dismiss them, Sidney took their hands, and grinned. “Of course you can.”

The five of them were soon piling out the door, when he spotted Georgiana and Charlotte across the street. As he always did whenever he saw her, he became entranced, watching her with baited breath whilst Eliza did a poor job of wrangling the children. James Stringer appeared from an alleyway, carrying a stack of architectural plans. The second he saw Charlotte, his eyes lit up. A conversation was started, with Georgiana leaving the pair to catch up as she returned to Mrs Griffiths - but not before glancing across at Sidney with a knowing glint in her eye.

Behind him he heard Eliza tut, a noise that was quickly becoming his least favourite sound, just behind the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. “I’ll never understand how she has so many men wrapped around her finger.”

Sidney cast her an incredulous look. “Why on earth would you say something so senseless? Miss Heywood never held affections like that for Stringer.”

She merely pursed her lips. “Isn’t it obvious that he does?”

Sidney looked back at Charlotte and Stringer, and couldn’t help but notice the familiarity between them, the way in which she smiled at him. Crossly, he wished that she would smile at him like that, just once more.

“I wonder what her fiancé would have to say about that,” Eliza muttered, as they watched Charlotte disappear inside Stringer’s cottage.

Gritting his teeth, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he hoisted Henry onto his shoulders, and began their walk, which now felt as though it would be infinitely longer than he had initially dreaded.

-

Charlotte was pleased to have run into James Stringer again, for she had truly missed him. His kindness and his patience was something sorely lacking amongst the beau monde.

He had invited her into his cottage for tea and she couldn’t say no. Out of politeness, and out curiosity. She wanted to know how his career had progressed, especially since he’d become Sanditon’s head architect after Tom ‘stepped down’. However, before she could speak, he’d began to ramble on, asking her all sorts of questions, as he rushed around trying to find a clean mug to pour some tea into for her.

“I heard you went to Paris with Miss Lambe,” he muttered, boiling the kettle. “I trust you had a pleasant time? You certainly have a wonderful colouring.”

“Thank you, I’ve not had many compliments on my tan since I’ve come back,” she replied, thoughtfully. “Appears it’s not very fashionable.” _People believe it makes me look common_ , she refrained from saying.

James returned her smile, if a little shakily. Was he nervous? “Well, I’ve never been one to keep up with trends.” She laughed, heartily. “What are you doing back in town then, Miss Heywood?”

“I’m visiting Georgiana,” she explained.

“Oh, I bet she’s glad to see you, as I am,” the last part of his sentence said with complete earnestness. He surprised her by walking towards her and clutching her hands in his. This sudden forwardness reminding her the day his father had suffered the horrendous injury to his leg, when they had been stood outside the Parker household. “Pardon by boldness, Miss Heywood, but I must confess that I’ve been thinking about you an awful lot recently. It must be fate that you’ve returned, now that I’ve found myself in a comfortable position to entertain thoughts of . . . "

Slowly, she pulled her hands from his, and took a step backwards. “I’m so sorry, Mr Stringer, but I’m . . . well, I’m engaged.” It wounded her to reject him, for he truly was a wonderful person, but she couldn’t help two things; that she was spoken for, and that she didn’t care for him that way.

“I see,” was his response. For a moment or two, he remained frozen, not saying anything. Then, he blinked, and offered her a small, but certain, smile. “And, are you happy with him?” She nodded. “Well, then I’m overjoyed for you. It’s about time somebody whisks you away.”

“Really? Oh, Mr Stringer I’m so glad to hear that!”

He chuckled. “Please, call me James. We are friends, are we not?”

“Of course. Then, you must call me Charlotte.”

“Deal,” he beamed. “I suppose you’ve brought you fiancé along to Sanditon then?”

“Yes, Captain Rutherford was dying to see the town I’ve been raving over the last few months,” she answered. She was always unsure how to address her fiancé when speaking to other people; Benjamin seemed to informal, especially for a man with so many titles. “I do hope you two meet before we leave.”

“I shall look forward to it,” he told her, sincerely.

Outside, the sun had set completely, and the darkness was starting to creep in. Not wanting to leave Benjamin alone in the inn without familiar company for much longer, she said her goodbyes, and left James’s cottage with a smile.

“Charlotte!” he called to her, as she crossed the street. "I hope this one deserves you.”

His words reverberated throughout her mind her whole journey back to the inn, and she wasn’t sure why they made her feel so on edge. However, by the time she had walked through the doors and had spotted Benjamin perched at a table in the corner of the rowdy community dining room, she’d put it aside.

Taking the seat beside her fiancé, she gave him a warm smile.

“Did you have a nice walk?” he asked her, the candle alight in the centre of the table throwing half of his face into shadows. He threw an arm over her shoulders, and pulled her closer to him. She was rather cold, her aegean blue spencer providing her with very little warmth, and while she was grateful for the heat radiating off of his body, she felt a little uneasy pressed so close to him. She wanted to wriggle free, but felt it rude to do so. “My sweet?"

“Yes, it was very . . . stimulating,” she replied, thoughtfully. Both her conversation with Georgiana and James had given her a lot to think about.

Amused, he gestured to the barmaid, who was carrying a carefully balanced tray of ales. “Can we have two of those ales please, and two pork pies? Thank you.”

Was Charlotte in the mood for ale and a pork pie? No, not particularly. However, it had been ordered, and she didn’t want to make a fuss.

-

When Crowe and Babington had called on the Parker household half an hour before dinner was to be served, Sidney couldn’t have hidden his jubilation if he had tried. He was desperate to escape the suffocating clutches of his fiancée. Although he knew it would disappoint Mary, who had planned a nice dinner for them all, and would undoubtedly cause an argument with Eliza later, he had bitten Crowe’s arm off when he offered him to join them in the local tavern for a round of drinks. He had rushed out the door, forgoing his hat and cane, before contentions were made.

“Long day, Sid?” Babington had asked him, lightly.

Sidney sighed in response. “You don’t know the half of it.” He didn’t want to delve into it all, not when he was gasping for a drink.

Seeming to pick up on his closed off attitude, Crowe attempted to lighten the mood. “Let’s see what mischief we can get you into tonight then, shall we?” he roared, clapping him on the back, as they pushed open the door to the inn. “Barmaid, three of your finest ales!”

Rolling their eyes, Babington and Sidney made a beeline for their preferred seats, when they spotted that not only was it occupied, but it was occupied by none other than Benjamin and Charlotte. They had looked up at the three of them when Crowe had made his rambunctious arrival, and whilst Benjamin gave Sidney a hearty wave, Charlotte seemed less than pleased to see him, averting her gaze immediately.

“I can’t stay,” Sidney muttered, turning to leave.

Crowe, however, stopped him, instead pushing him into a seat at a spare table. “No, you’re going to grin and bear it, Sid,” he instructed, suddenly rather stern. “You need to learn how to be indifferent around her.”

Sidney looked across at Babington, who took the chair next to him, pleading with him for sympathy. Instead, he had merely shrugged. “Crowe, for once, is right,” he told him. “I know it’s a tough situation, Sid, but it’s in the past. You have to find a way to push through it. Show her you’re the man she believes to be; be strong.”

Sighing, he caved. “Fine.”

As the three ales were brought to their table, Sidney snuck a glance in Charlotte’s direction. A surge of jealousy coursed through his veins when he noticed how close they were sat next to each other, and when Benjamin reached out and wiped a crumb from her lips with his thumb, Sidney was certain he’d dent the tankard in his grip out of anger.

“Easy man,” Babington muttered.

Sidney couldn’t tear his eyes away; Charlotte was blushing. He’d always found her so endearing when she was flustered, the soft pink tinge that spread across her cheeks and nose rather pretty. The fact that it was another man who got to admire her up close, another man who had caused the blush to appear in the first place, made him feel nauseous.

What was the last straw was when he watched Benjamin lean in for a kiss. Leaping out of his chair, Sidney burst out the doors of the inn, determined that a long, aimless walk in the cold was just what he needed to clear his head, before he did something he would later regret.

-

After their disastrous meal - the food itself wasn’t half bad, it was the appearance of Sidney midway through that had caused her to lose her appetite - Charlotte had decided she needed a good night’s sleep.

As she sat in front of the little saucer-shaped mirror, brushing her hair, she kept replaying the moment Sidney had stormed out. Benjamin had been inches away from kissing her, something she wouldn’t have let happen regardless of the outburst. They’d kissed before, yes, but it had been in different, more romantic circumstances. A picnic in Hyde Park, a midnight stroll along the Thames, for example. Now, it didn’t feel right displaying their affection with Sidney a few metres away.

What surprised Charlotte was that she had wanted to run after Sidney, find some way to reassure him that she wouldn’t have kissed Benjamin. What did that mean? Why would she want to leave her fiancé’s side to comfort another man? Did that mean she cared more for Sidney then she did Benjamin?

There were far too many questions and not enough answers for her liking. With a sigh, she blew out the candles and climbed into bed, intent on falling asleep to the lulling sound of the waves outside. However, just as she had closed her eyes, the conjoining door opened and Benjamin appeared, holding a candlestick.

Scrambling to pull the sheets up to her chin - she was in her nightwear for heavens sake! - she stared at her fiancé with wide eyes. “What on earth are you doing?” she hissed.

He laughed, holding up his spare hand in surrender. “Can I not say goodnight to my bride-to-be before bed?”

“You said goodnight outside the door Benjamin, was that not satisfactory enough?”

He was still walking towards her, making her awfully uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to scare you, my sweet,” he whispered, as he stooped down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. When he went to press another to her lips, she manoeuvred herself further along the bed, away from him. She didn’t want to kiss him, not after spending nearly the whole day in Sidney’s disorientating company. Her emotions were all over the place that it wouldn’t have been fair, to none of the parties involved.

This, however seemed to frustrate Benjamin. His brow knitted, he looked oddly sinister in the dim candlelight. “Have I done something to offend you, Charlotte?”

“No, no,” she hastily explained. “I merely have a headache.” It was a little white lie, necessary to stop him from finding out the truth; that she was weighing up her feelings for another man.

Appeased by her answer, the tension in his shoulders relaxed. “Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water?” he offered, kindly. “It always makes me feel better.”

She shook her head - she just wanted to be alone. “It’s nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

“Alright, dear,” he smiled, heading back towards his room. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

As he closed the door, the light seeping out with him, Charlotte found herself conflicted by the relief she felt after Benjamin had left. Surely, somebody in love should be yearning after their partner the second they left the room? Yet, the only person she was missing was Sidney.


	5. tea with the parkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlotte and benjamin are invited to tea at the parker household

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm glad to say that i can update a little earlier than i'd planned! reading everyone's lovely comments is good motivation to type faster haha, especially with all the theories dotting around.
> 
> i've been noticing a spike in interest again in the show - i'm curious to know if this is because of the series airing in america? if so, are there many americans reading this?
> 
> anyways, please enjoy!

**_21st December_ **

Charlotte awoke with the rising sun. The bustling sounds of innovation and production outside her window, of the workers beginning their day improving the town of Sanditon further, caused her to forget _when_ she was. For a brief moment, she was transported back to a time when she hadn’t a care in the world, six months prior. It was only when her eyes fluttered open and she surveyed her unfamiliar surroundings that she was reminded that she was not staying in the Parker household.

Stretching her arms high above her, she swung her legs out of the bed, the chill seeping into her almost immediately. When she heard a knock on the door - the main door, not the one between the conjoining rooms - she reached for her dressing gown. It was the barmaid from downstairs, who appeared to have just finished her shift. She gave Charlotte a pleasant smile, bid her good morning, and handed her a letter.

Curious, she opened it, wondering who would write to her this early in the morning. It couldn’t have been from her family, for their was no address, merely her name in neat cursive. The letter had to be from someone in the town. With baited breath, she pulled the piece of paper out, only one name swirling through her brain; Sidney. Was it an apology for his behaviour? Was it a confession of some sort? The possibilities were endless.

To her disappointment, then guilt at feeling disappointed by the contents when in truth it was nice to hear from her friend, the letter was from Mary, inviting her and Benjamin to tea at eleven.

As much as Charlotte was thrilled about going to be reunited with Tom and Mary again, and of course the ever entertaining children, she was dreading being in Sidney’s company again. Not because she didn’t like him - more, the complete opposite. She found it awkward to be near him, after the way things had ended in the summer, and felt uncomfortable lauding her engagement to a wealthy Viscount in front of him when he was so visibly unhappy in his own arrangement.

She got dressed into a simple white cotton dress and a dark green spencer, so dark that at first glance it appears black, and only upon closer inspection do you notice that it is actually a wonderful shade of juniper. One of the many things she had learnt during her time in France was that fashion was more than superficial nonsense, and that clothes had a very powerful way of making one feel. For example, each nation's military wear clothes that inspire the soldiers, and aim to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy. Hence, her decision to wear her favourite dress and spencer, forsaking a bonnet; she needed something that would make her feel good about herself, as any added discomfort would only make her stress more about the situation.

Sitting down in front of the mirror, she tilted her head as she looked at her reflection, wondering what to do with her unruly locks. She had also been educated, by Georgiana and their Parisian friends, that hair was an extension of how one dressed, and thus had the same self-confidence-giving properties. Not as well versed in hairstyles as her friends, who all had grown up with maids to attend to their hair for them, Charlotte had learnt how to do simple styles, including a chignon. With as much focus as she could muster, she managed to twist and pin her hair up in a way that resembled something of the way she’d been taught.

Examining her handiwork from all angles, she was content with what she saw, the little wisps of hair that couldn’t be contained actually quite appealing. Not that she would ever admit it out loud, but there was some small part of her that wanted to look nice, not only for herself, but for Sidney.

Not long after she had dressed, Benjamin knocked on the conjoining door, and waited until he permitted her entry. When he stepped inside, looking rather fetching in a cream linen shirt and matching cravat, a refined navy coat keeping him warm. He seemed rather sheepish as he walked in, his hands tucked behind his back. His whole demeanour reminded her of her little brothers when they’d been caught sneaking another helping of pie.

“I fear I behaved most waywardly last night,” he began, carefully. “I can see now how distressed I had made you, and how impertinent it was of me to admit myself entrance to your room last night. Please, accept my deepest apologies, my sweet."

Charlotte found it difficult to stay angry with him, if she was even angry in the first place. She was stunned, yes, at his forwardness, expecting a kiss from her when they were alone and unchaperoned, in her bedroom of all places too, but she wasn’t outraged. They were, after all, engaged to be married.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Benjamin,” she said, sweetly. “It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

He smiled, and took her hands in his. “I promise, no more ambushes from now on,” he teased.

"Good," she chuckled, as she stepped back and gave him the letter. “It’s from Mary Parker,” she informed him as he read.

“She’s invited us both to call on them for tea later, how lovely of her!” he exclaimed, his grin now stretching across his handsome features.

“So, you would like to go?”

“Of course I do! I’ve been looking forward to meeting the rest of the Parkers, as I know they’re very dear to you.”

As glad as she was to hear that Benjamin wanted to make the effort to meet her friends, she also knew that Sidney being there will not make matters any easier.

-

“Why would you invite them _both_ to tea?”

Sidney was most frustrated when he woke up, mid morning, his head pounding, to discover that in less than twenty minutes Charlotte was going to be popping by, Benjamin on her arm like a faithful little puppy. He’d had his feel of the sickeningly content couple the day before, and wasn’t sure he’d be able to endure them for much longer. Not with Eliza sat beside him, making vicious and vulgar comments.

Mary, who rarely ever lost her temper, shot her brother-in-law a frightening stare, spine-chilling enough to terrify any man. “Charlotte is our dear friend. She is young and was not raised as we were, so is quite certainly feeling rather overwhelmed by everything at the moment. We will not show her the cold shoulder and make her think we have chosen your side, when there are no sides to be taken. Now, when she and her fiancé arrive you will be nothing but welcoming and pleasant, am I understood?”

Sidney could do nothing but nod, suddenly incredibly guilty for having caused such a fuss in the first place.

“You have enough time to go and make yourself look presentable, so I suggest you start by combing your hair.”

Not wanting to further infuriate or disappoint her, he did as he was told and made his way back up the stairs, intent on washing his face and fixing his hair. On the way, he bumped into Eliza, who was just leaving her bedroom. She’d chosen a pastel pink dress that had come with a hefty price tag, clearly to impress and intimidate their guests later on. However, the dress succeeded only in washing her out, making her look pale and actually rather sickly.

“So you’ve heard who’s _‘popping by’_ , then?” she asked, either poking fun at Sanditon’s predominantly hayseed population, or Mary’s quirky colloquialisms. He hadn’t the energy nor the patience to scold her for it.

“I beg you, try and be nice,” he sighed. Eliza’s smug disposition cracked, replaced by a dark look in her eye that warned him not to push her. Yet, he couldn’t help it. He had received a ghastly telling-off from him when he had returned late last night, and hadn’t been permitted to utter a single word, let alone explain himself. “I know good will isn’t one of your many traits and can be quite a chore, but do remember that Miss Heywood is going to be marrying into one of the most affluent and influential families in the country. If you intend to keep your place in society, then it will suit you to not give them a reason to cast you aside.”

With that he disappeared into the washroom, closing the door on her. It was a small victory, but trapped in a loveless engagement to a nasty harpy such as Eliza Campion, he relished all the wins he could get.

After a good ten minutes battling with his hair, which seemed to not want to cooperate, he settled on the tiniest quiff his small curls would allow. He knew it was vain, but he was very particular about his hair, especially when he knew that Charlotte was going to arrive soon. He wanted to make a good impression on her, even more so now that she was engaged to one of the most handsome and most eligible men in society.

As he descended the stairs, the pit in his stomach grew larger. Nerves, which didn’t usually plague him, were eating him up inside. His every interaction with Charlotte in the last two days had been disastrous, either ending with him storming off or Eliza dragging him away. God forbid what she thought of him. One look at Mary, and he knew that he had to try harder.

The knock on the door sent everyone into a frenzy. Tom, who had been ecstatic about the prospect of enticing another young and wealthy gentleman to Sanditon to _‘spend, spend, spend’_ , began to round up the children, who he had assured were dressed their best. Alicia, Jenny and Henry, on the other hand, did not care a fig about a prosperous Viscount staying in town, and instead were excited about seeing Charlotte once again. Mary was visibly delighted, though Sidney could tell that she was a little bit nervous; he suspected she was anxious for him, but also because she had come to view Charlotte almost as a surrogate daughter, and the prospect of meeting the man who was going to whisk her away made her a little uneasy. If Eliza was apprehensive then she didn’t allow it to show, instead she was sat in the corner chair, her hands clasped as though it was merely the postman who was waiting on the doorstep.

“Battle stations!” Tom cried out, as the maid hurried to open the door. Even the maid, Emily, was a little skittish. She had grown quite fond of Charlotte during her stay, and was clearly quite eager to see her again.

Sidney took a deep breath, as Charlotte and Benjamin walked in. He was surprised to see a distance between them, though tried not to read into it.

“My dear girl, how wonderful to see you again,” Tom said warmly, bending down to sweep her into a hug, the colossal height difference between them borderline comical. Then, he turned to greet Benjamin. “And this must be your fiancé, the Viscount Rutherford?”

“Benjamin, please,” he replied, as he shook Tom’s hand. “It’s great to finally meet you, Charlotte’s told me a lot about you all.”

Mary embraced Charlotte, affectionately. The pair did truly seem to miss one another. “Oh, I couldn’t believe it when Sidney had told us the news yesterday. Our own dear Charlotte, engaged! We’re so glad to see you’ve found happiness.”

At the mention of his name, Charlotte had glanced across at him, her shoulders somewhat tense. “Thank you so much for the invitation, Mary, it’s wonderful to see you all again.”

Unable to stand idly any longer, the children raced forward and stampeded their friend, clinging onto her every limb. “Lottie you’re back! You’re back!”

“Of course I came back!” she exclaimed, bending down to wrap her arms around them all. Her entire being lit up, the first time he’d seen her so genuinely delighted since that night at the ball, before everything had gone downhill. “I couldn’t abandon my favourite troops.” They giggled at this, sending a ripple of laughter through the adults too. Charlotte gestured to Benjamin beside her. “I’ve even brought the Army’s finest Captain with me too - I thought he needed to learn from the absolute best.”

Joining in, Benjamin stood to attention immediately and saluted the three Parker children. They fell about at this, before falling in line in front of him, and saluted back. “At ease soldier!” Henry cried out.

-

After Charlotte was given a tour of the children’s newly refurbished playroom, where Henry proudly pointed out his toy soldier collection, she took a seat in the drawing room beside her fiancé. Tom had wasted no time in spewing the sales pitch he’d undoubtedly written out the night before, though whether it was actually working was left to be revealed.

“Tom, can we stop badgering the poor man for five minutes?” Mary chided, handing Charlotte a teacup and saucer, brimming with oolong tea, her favourite. “I want to know how you two met.”

Sidney shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, not entirely sure that he wanted to hear the story. When Eliza gave him an odd stare, he tried to play off his wary fidgeting as an attempt to reach his own cup of tea, though knew she could see through it.

Meanwhile, Benjamin held Charlotte’s hand in his own. Sidney couldn’t ignore the swell of jealousy that rose up inside as he watched Benjamin absentmindedly brush her knuckles softly with his thumb, a tender gesture that spoke of an affectionate relationship. “Shall I tell the story?” he asked Charlotte, grinning. She nodded, taking a sip of tea. “I must warn you, it’s long.”

“That’s no trouble, I enjoy lengthy romantic tales,” Eliza piped up, leaning forward in her seat with a sly smile.

“Well, I’d been invited to the Château de Rambouillet after meeting the Duke of Berry at a gathering in Bruges,” Benjamin began, sounding every bit the seasoned storyteller. He didn’t even bat an eyelid when the questions began.

“By the Duke of Berry, you do mean the King of France’s nephew?” Mary inquired, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“The very same, yes. I didn’t know a soul in Yvelines, besides the Duke himself, and I’m not a very accomplished French speaker, so I was feeling rather sorry for myself,” he explained. "I used to go riding every day, for hours on end, just for something to do. One afternoon I hear two fellow English accents - two women, from behind a row of trees. They seemed to be laughing about something. Craving conversation I’d be able to understand, I rode over immediately. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the sight I was greeted with. The second my eyes fell upon Charlotte, I knew I was in love. She was wearing this brown pinafore, her hair wild and her cheeks windswept. Never had I seen somebody so beautiful.”

Mary clasped her hand to her chest. “How sweet!”

Benjamin’s smile widened, as Charlotte blushed. “He’s exaggerating of course. I looked a mess. Georgiana and I were laughing about how I’d lost my bonnet on a branch, and my hair was horrendously unseemly.”

“No, she was heavenly,” he corrected. “The pair of them were on horses too, though it was clear that Charlotte was an experienced rider. We got to talking, about the weather I think? I was a nervous wreck, but thankfully she had mercy on me, being nothing but patient and kind. Eventually, Georgiana grew frustrated with her unyielding horse and rode back to the château. I didn’t want to spend a moment apart from Charlotte, and fortunately she thought the same. Instead of heading back we raced one another throughout the gardens. I am not too proud in admitting that she was faster, beating me to all the checkpoints.”

“He’s being modest,” she interrupted, her cheeks a deeper shade of fuchsia now. “My horse was merely better trained.”

“It wasn’t,” Benjamin informed everyone.

“Are you not in the cavalry, Benjamin?” Tom interjected, relishing the opportunity to call a Viscount by his forename.

Benjamin laughed. “I am yes,” he answered. “Puts my years of training to shame, I know.”

At this, Sidney cracked a smile. That sounded like the Charlotte he fell in love with.

“Well done!” Mary beamed. Then, something clicked. “Wait, does this mean you were invited to the château by the Duke too, Charlotte?”

She nodded. “Georgiana and I met him at an art exhibition in Paris,” she explained, modestly. “Théodore Géricault’s new painting, _Le Radeau de la Méduse_ , was being unveiled. King Louis was there too, though we only saw him from across the room. Charles, sorry, the Duke, saw us struggling with the translations and offered us assistance. He stayed with us most of the evening, acting as an unofficial tour guide. It was only until the next day, after he’d invited us to the château, that somebody told us who he was - he’d introduced himself as ‘Charlie’.” Her French pronunciation was not only impeccable, but it was rather alluring. 

Mary shook her head, eyes wide. “Only you, Charlotte, could make friends with royalty unknowingly,” she smiled.

“How did you even manage to swindle an invitation?” Eliza burst, her impatience beginning to get the better of her.

“Our friend, Javier, an up and coming playwright, was invited and brought us along,” Charlotte replied, setting her empty teacup and saucer down. She turned to Mary and Tom. “It’s all rather complicated, would you rather I press on with how Benjamin and I met?”

“Oh yes please, dear,” Mary nodded.

Internally, Sidney groaned. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was trying his best to remain calm, appear indifferent as Babington and Crowe had advised, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult as Benjamin persisted to make eyes at Charlotte, his hand still clasping hers.

“Well, we were racing one another in the gardens until we came across a group of rather heated French politicians,” she continued, taking the lead. “They didn’t much appreciate two English riders interrupting their debate, so we rode back to the château before they could hurl any more insults our way. We spent the next few days, with Georgiana, exploring the rest of the château, then returned to Paris. Benjamin was staying with his friends, and I wasn’t certain of when I’d see him next, if ever again. Then, a few weeks later, one night at the opera, I look to my left and spot Benjamin on the balcony beside ours.”

“It was fate,” Benjamin sighed.

“It certainly had to mean something,” Charlotte agreed. “You see, I had attended the opera alone, with Georgiana too tired to go. At the reception I knew no one, so clung to Benjamin for company. We spent the entire night talking and dancing, with the most fantastic orchestra playing such beautiful music. I felt like I was living in an opera, it was magical.”

Benjamin chuckled. “Meanwhile, I spent the whole night fending off handsome French competitors.” Sidney didn’t doubt that for a second.

Charlotte blushed once more. “You’re exaggerating again,” she scolded him, softly. “Anyway, a month later Georgiana and I are returning home on the boat. It’s a tiresome and monotonous journey, not much to see. On the last night I spot Benjamin on the deck. By now I had realised that something, perhaps fate, was working hard to push us together. I approached him, and we spent the whole night walking around, talking, until the sun came up.”

“Without a chaperone, how scandalous,” Eliza muttered. Everyone decided to simply ignore her this time.

“As you may know, whilst Georgiana returned to Sanditon, I travelled to London and stayed with Susan. I’d told Benjamin where I’d be, and sure enough he came and called on me often. We’d go walking in the park, or visit a museum.”

“I fear Charlotte didn’t know she was being courted,” Benjamin laughed.

Sheepishly, she shook her head. “I did not, no,” she admitted. “Not until Susan pointed it out one evening.” Sidney gritted his teeth at this. All this talk of fate was grating on him; fate had conspired to bring Charlotte into his life only for it to rip her out of it just as quickly. He didn’t trust that fate always knew what was best. “I was due to return home in late November, having been away from my family for nearly four months. On what I thought was my last day, strolling through Hyde Park, I proposed to Benjamin - "

 _"You proposed?”_ Tom, Mary and Eliza spluttered, incredulously.

Sidney’s knuckles had gone white. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d convinced himself that Charlotte had been coerced into marriage, not that she had initiated the whole arrangement. He didn’t know quite what to do with the information; did that mean she loved Benjamin, truly?

Charlotte, for the first time that morning, looked him square in the eyes. He swore he could see a sadness within her doe eyes, contrasting with the happy nature of the tale, that he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was she just feeling guilty for telling the story and him being there, forced to listen?

“Well, our entire courtship had been rather unorthodox that the notion of me proposing felt like the cherry on top of the cake,” she told them. Some small part of Sidney knew that there was more to her reasoning than she was willing to share; he was determined to find out what it was.

“I said yes, of course,” Benjamin smiled. “I could hardly believe my good fortune. I had been planning to propose too you see, that very same day.”

Tom whistled. “That truly is fate.”

Sidney wished that his brother wasn’t such a fool sometimes.

-

Benjamin was roped into yet another discussion about Sanditon’s many merits with Tom, whilst Charlotte was whisked away yet again by the children, keen to show her the new rocking horse.

“It was a birthday present from Uncle Sidney!” Jenny told her, demonstrating how it worked. It truly was a fine piece of craftsmanship, something that had set him back a few pennies.

Sidney watched from the doorway as Charlotte ran her fingertips along the wooden nose of the horse, delicately. “It’s marvellous,” she replied, smiling. “You must have been a very good girl.”

“Even if I hadn’t been, Uncle Sidney would still have bought me it,” Jenny giggled. “He’s nice like that.”

“He is, isn’t he,” Charlotte sighed.

His breath hitched in his throat at her soft words. Feeling emboldened, he stepped inside the room and coughed, signalling his presence.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Charlotte, carefully. He wasn’t sure quite what he meant; did she mind him being there, did she mind him joining in, did she mind him generally?

She shook her head, slowly. “Not at all.”

He came further in, cautious that he didn’t want to alarm Charlotte. “May I speak to Miss Heywood alone please, Jenny?”

Undiscerning, Jenny nodded, scooping up her favourite doll and disappearing into her bedroom across the hall. The second she left, a shiver went down Sidney’s spine. This was the first time he and Charlotte had been alone since their parting on the cliffs. He’d been tempted to kiss her then, just as he was tempted now. Instead, he refrained himself, ensuring that he kept a respectable distance from her.

“You’re not going to scold me again?” she asked, teasing lightly. Her good-humoured nature took him by surprise a little. He had predicted, and would have completely understood, she would be cold with him - though, he wasn’t sure why he had expected anything less than kindness from Charlotte.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a small smile gracing his features. “I can’t apologise enough for my behaviour at the ball,” he told her, abashedly. “I was a brute, and you didn’t deserve it.”

“What is it about a ball that brings out the worst in you?” She was teasing him again, a glint in her eye.

He chuckled, timidly. “Perhaps it is seeing you in a pretty ballgown that makes me forget my manners?”

Charlotte took a dangerous step towards him. Any closer and he was afraid he’d do something he would later regret.

“What I should have said that night was that you look happy.”

“I do?”

“Don’t you feel happy?”

Hastily, she tried to amend her words. “Of course I’m happy.” He wasn’t convinced. What was worse, was that she didn’t make too much of an effort to sound convincing. “Benjamin’s a good man. I’m fortunate that I get to marry a good man.”

This time, he took a step forward. The lavender scent that enveloped her always was as intoxicating as ever. “You should marry for love. You deserve to marry for love.”

“Are _you_ marrying for love?” she retorted, her eyes suddenly dark, holding his gaze fiercely. It had been this boldness that had made him fall so deeply for her.

He sighed. “You, of all people, should know I am not.”

Charlotte’s lips parted as a small gasp escaped her. Before anything else could be said, she fled out the door, and bounded down the stairs. In a state of shock, Sidney could merely watch her leave, frozen to the spot. It was only a few moments later that he descended the stairs too, only to watch as Charlotte and Benjamin bid their goodbyes, and left out the front door.

“What a fetching pair they make, eh?” Tom remarked, cheerily.

Beside Sidney, Mary squeezed his arm in an attempt to comfort him. It did little to soothe his pain. He was worried that he’d frightened Charlotte away. What had he said? He’d inferred that he wasn’t marrying for love as he wasn’t marrying her.

A horrible churning feeling inside his stomach began to make him feel nauseous. Had Charlotte not know the extent of his feelings for her, the depth they ran? Had she not realised he’d been in love with her this whole time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love the idea that charlotte manages to make friends with such influential people, like lady susan, so i shamelessly wrote about her befriending royalty. indulge me.


	6. sidney makes amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> self-explanatory, sidney makes amends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm surprising myself by how fast i'm managing to update - i hope the quality isn't lacking!
> 
> a little bit of a shorter chapter here, i hope you don't mind. the next one should be a little longer.
> 
> enjoy!

**_22nd December, 1819_ **

Sidney had a horribly fitful nights sleep. It had taken him hours to fall asleep, and even then he woke up what felt like every half hour. The instant the clock had struck four and his eyes shot open, he resigned himself to staying awake. He began to palm through the book of philosophies on his nightstand, content to losing himself in the insights of men far wiser than he could ever hope to be, when he heard the sound of James crying in the room beside him.

Without hesitating, he made his way towards his nephew's room. He wanted to reach the child before it woke up the rest of the household, however he found that he had been beaten to the cot by a dishevelled Mary.

"Don't worry yourself, Sidney," she whispered, reaching down to pick James up. Her touch instantly soothed him, as he snuggled into the crook of her neck. "Go back to bed." One glance at her brother-in-law and she realised that he'd been awake for a while. "Have you had trouble sleeping?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It must be all the . . . excitement that's keeping my brain whirring."

Skeptically, Mary tilted her head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Instinctively, he wanted to bury his head in the sand and retreat back to his room. However, the tenderness with which Mary was looking at him filled him with an urge to unburden his woes. He nodded, slowly. “Please.”

Setting James, who was now fast asleep, back down in the cot, she gestured for him to follow her out the door and down the stairs. There they lit some candles and sat in the two comfiest chairs by the fire, the embers only just burning still.

“What’s ailing you, dear?”

Sidney suspected that she already knew before he opened his mouth. “Miss Heywood,” he muttered, still unable to bring himself to call her by her first name. “Seeing her again has . . . it’s brought up a lot of memories, a lot of emotions, that frankly I’d rather stayed buried. When I’m around her I wish I become the unfeeling beast she once accused me of being, for then it would be a lot easier to endure the aching in my heart I feel every time I look at her.”

Mary tutted, sympathetically. “Sidney, that’s no way to live,” she told him, softly. She paused, taking a deep breath, and then continued. "I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you two. I was fortunate that Tom was the only man I ever loved, and that our relationship was never . . . halted, or interfered with.” She chose her words carefully, though was not shy. The pair of them were done making excuses for Tom's reckless actions. "Surely though the next greatest thing besides being together is knowing that the other is happy?"

"What if she isn't happy? What if there's something darker at work here - "

"Sidney, do you truly believe Charlotte is trapped in a situation she can't free herself from?” Mary was being gentle but firm with him, something he appreciated greatly. "The same Charlotte who can't hide how she's feeling and says the first thing on her mind? My dear, I think your paranoia has stemmed from you anguish at seeing her with another man. You had closed your heart off for so long that now you are vulnerable, susceptible to all kinds of thoughts and feelings."

"I suppose . . . I could be blinded by my jealousy."

"I don't claim to have the monopoly on love, but I saw how they were looking at one another. There is love there, and it might not be a love to rival the type you read about, but regardless it is there. That is not to say Charlotte has forgotten you, or what you two shared, so don't be angry with her for moving on with her life."

"But it's how quickly - "

"Did you not fall in love with her over the span of a few weeks? Is it not a testament to her affection for you that it took her a few months to fall for Captain Rutherford?" she sighed. "Sidney, you must understand that women are not afforded the luxury of freedom as men are. Our every action is dictated by society; the way we dress, how we speak, where we go, _who we marry_. For a girl like Charlotte, it can be difficult to find her place in the world. Her family, despite once being gentry, are now farmers, with sixteen mouths to feed, not counting their tenants. A year ago, her parents might have hoped that a passing tradesman or a farmhand might take their daughter's fancy and give her a comfortable life. Now she is engaged to the most eligible bachelor in the country, with a commission _and_ a title _and_ a fortune beyond anything anyone can comprehend. Miraculously, Charlotte _chose_ her engagement. Most women are not so fortunate. Whilst men get the land and the wealth, the best women can pray for is love. Charlotte has found that, with a man who can give her everything she deserves. You cannot condemn her for that, not when you couldn't possibly understand what her other options were.”

Sidney fell silent at this revelation. He hadn’t spared a single thought as to how advantageous and astonishing Charlotte’s engagement was, and had been rather selfish in his dismissal of her. With Mary’s passionate proclamation he was given a different point of view, one that he had ignored entirely. He hung his head, fiddling absentmindedly with his fingers. “I hadn’t realised.”

“Men don’t,” Mary said with a sad smile. “Be different, Sidney.”

-

_Be different._

Sidney made his way towards the inn with one purpose; make amends. Tom had also sent him to invite Benjamin on a tour of the town, but that was a secondary mission. His main focus was to call a truce between him and Charlotte.

With a pep in his step, he tried to ignore the flurry of butterflies that swarmed in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about her, and focused on the positives. She was sweet, and she was intelligent, and always had something to say; despite those being the qualities that had made him fall in love with her, they were also the traits of a good friend, and he needed more of those.

He reached the tavern just as it was starting to fill up for lunch. Pushing through the crowd in the doorway, he spotted Charlotte and Benjamin sat in the corner, tucking into some fresh bread and slabs of cheese. He took a deep breath, and gave her a wave when she looked up and spotted him. His heart soared when she waved back.

“Miss Heywood,” he greeted, unable to tear his eyes away from her. She was wearing her hair down for the first time in a long time, the walnut brown locks framing her soft round face.

She offered him a little, if a little hesitant, smile, her bright doe eyes sparkling. “Mr Parker."

“Parker, what brings you here?” Benjamin exclaimed, standing up to shake his hand.

“Tom wants to know if you would like a tour of the town now?” he told him. He was trying to be calm and collected. “Don’t feel obliged to go if it doesn’t appeal to you. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Benjamin, who had been a notorious people-pleaser in school, nodded. “That sounds interesting, I won’t mind a peek around.” He stood up, his plate empty apart from the odd crumb, and held out his arm to Charlotte, who still had a slice of bread and a few morsels of cheese left.

“Would you like to accompany me, my sweet?”

Sidney had to remind himself that he was not going to let his envious tendencies get the better of him. If that was Benjamin’s preferred term of endearment for her, and she didn’t seem to mind, then it wasn’t any of his business.

Charlotte’s gaze flitted between her lunch and Benjamin. “Do you mind if I finished my food first? I’m famished. I can catch you up in a short while.”

“Of course, take all the time you need.”

This was Sidney’s chance to extend an olive branch. “Actually, would you care to take a stroll with me, Miss Heywood?” His voice was a little shaky, worried that she’d turn him down.

However, she nodded, almost immediately. “That sounds lovely,” she replied, then hastily glanced up at Benjamin. “Are you alright to go alone? I’m afraid I’ve seen the town already, I’ll only bore you.” She was trying to be lighthearted, but Sidney could hear the nerves in her voice; was this anxiety about what her fiancé would think about her going for a walk with another man, or was it anxiety about being alone with him? It was difficult to decipher.

A little taken aback, Benjamin seemed to mull over her words before he gave her a short, somewhat restrained, smile. Was he irritated by her request? “I’ll be grand, my dear. Have a nice time.” He dipped to press a kiss to her forehead, then left the tavern, placing his hat on his head as he disappeared out the door.

The awkwardness between them was palpable, now that they were alone. Sidney shuffled on his feet for a few seconds, his cane unsteady in his hand as his palms grew sweaty. Fortunately, his insecurity worked in his favour, as Charlotte gave him a pleasant smile, taking pity on him. “You can take a seat if you wish,” she told him, breaking the ice.

“Thank you.” The atmosphere was still a little uncomfortable, the only difference being that he was now in the chair opposite her, as opposed to towering over her.

Charlotte pushed her plate towards him, kindly. “Can I tempt you to something?”

Sidney swore she was trying to give him a heart attack. The way she would phrase things was so unintentionally provocative that he was amazed she was oblivious to the power she had over him. Swallowing thickly, he shook his head. “No, thank you.”

Finishing her last piece of cheese, she leant forward on the table, her hands clasped together. “I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly yesterday,” she blurted out.

He was surprised; he hadn’t expected, nor needed, an apology from her. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You must have thought me some skittish schoolgirl - "

“Miss Heywood, nothing you can ever do will make me see you as anything less than perfect.”

Her lips parted, her eyes wide, and he was afraid that she’d flee again because he’d overstepped. Instead, she blushed a pretty pink colour. “You truly do not have a filter, do you?”

Sidney couldn’t help but smirk. “Really? I thought I was rather aloof.”

“Hmm, I think you try too hard to be all mysterious, but I see the real you, Mr Parker. You’re actually quite soft, deep down.”

He cocked a bemused eyebrow. “I trust you to keep that to yourself, Miss Heywood. I fear what that revelation would do to my reputation.”

They both shared a hearty laugh, and for a split second he was transported back to the summer, before things had become frightfully fractious. From the wistful glint in her eye, he knew she felt the same.

“I’ve missed this,” he sighed. “Your company.”

She gulped, dropping his gaze. “Mr Parker - "

“Can we be friends? Please?” he divulged, his mouth moving faster than his brain. There was almost certainly a more eloquent way of asking her, but he was so determined to get the words out that he didn’t put much thought into them. “I truly do miss talking with you and just being near you, and if the only way I can be with you is as friends then I promise you can expect no more snide comments or judgements from me.” He was rambling, most likely making no coherent sense.

She broke out into an infectious grin and nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds wonderful,” she beamed. Then, as if to seal the deal, she held out her hand to him. “Friends.”

Gingerly he took it, her touch never failing to send his body haywire. “Friends,” he repeated.

-

“What do you make of Benjamin? Please, don’t be shy. I want to know what you truly think.”

They were walking along the pebbled beach, with no particular destination in mind, some distance apart from one another, though perhaps too close to be considered proper. Her arm kept rubbing with his, the backs of their hands brushing from time to time.

“He’s certainly very charming,” he began warily. Her question had taken him by surprise. Seeing the wide-eyed expression on Charlotte’s face, he knew she really did want to know what he thought about her fiancé. “I’ve known Benjamin for years, ever since I was a boy. He used to be terribly shy, always had his head stuck in a book. I suspect that’s how you two bonded, over books?” She smiled sheepishly, and he knew he was right. Forcing a smile on his face too - for it hurt to hear how she had found somebody else to discuss literature with, when that had always been common ground between them - he continued. “Since then he’s grown up marvellously. He’s now rather confident, at ease amongst anyone, and from what I hear about his exploits on the battlefield you can certainly depend upon him to defend you if, which with your appetite for adventure I don’t doubt for a second, the need ever arose. He’s interesting, too. You’ll never grow bored with him.” He paused, and contemplated whether he should tell her what else he thought. Taking a deep breath, he decided that since they’d resolved to be friends again he wasn’t going to hold anything back. “I can tell by the way he looks at you that he’s in love. You can trust him to be faithful."

“You really think so?” He nodded. “Thank you Sidney. You must know your opinion means more to me than anyone else’s.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this information. Of course he was overjoyed to hear it - she valued his view over everyone else’s, including her own fiancé. However, it only posed more questions, questions he couldn’t ask now they had resigned themselves to a simple friendship.

“Surely it is only your opinion that should be taken into account. What is it about him that drew you to him?”

Charlotte gave him a calculating look that read ‘are you sure you want to know’, to which he offered her a reassuring nod. “I know you’re probably thinking it’s something like his looks or his charm, which I must admit didn’t hinder the attraction, but in truth it was his understanding. He somehow knew exactly what I was thinking at all times. He didn’t rush anything between us, didn’t force me into situations I was uncomfortable with. Everything was at my pace, which would frustrate most men, but Benjamin . . . he didn’t mind. I appreciated his patience.”

As unpleasant as it was for him to listen to how the woman he loved fell in love with somebody else, he was warmed by her answer. With Mary’s reminder ringing in his ears _(‘women are not afforded the same luxury men are’)_ it was nice to hear that Charlotte, who deserved the absolute world wrapped in a neat little bow, was treated with the respect she deserved.

 _"‘Should not a good marriage be based on mutual love and affection?’”_ he recalled with a smile. “I remember when you had said that, it was like a bucket of ice water down my back. I’d realised I’d formed too hasty an opinion of you, that you were unlike any woman I had ever met before.”

Charlotte grinned. “You were far too phlegmatic to join in the conversation that day, leaving Georgiana and I to our own defences.”

He cringed at the memory. “How dull I was then. How boorish.”

“You had your reasons,” she told him, softly.

“That doesn’t excuse my behaviour,” he replied, firmly. “I fear I am at my worst when my heart is broken.”

Charlotte hung her head at this comment, beginning to edge further away from him. He cursed, ever so quietly, under his breath. “Forgive me, I did not mean to be so careless with my words,” he quickly tried to amend himself. “I am not trying to . . . what I mean to say is . . . I don’t hold you to blame, for what happened.”

“You needn’t apologise,” she muttered, glancing out towards the sea. “We are both at fault. We broke each other’s hearts, did we not?”

Without looking around to see if they were within sight of anybody else, Sidney reached out and took her hand in his, gently. They halted in their tracks, meeting one another’s gaze. “If, by some magic, I could go back again knowing how it would end, I wouldn’t change a single thing. Loving you is the single most terrifying yet wonderful thing to ever happen to me.”

She squeezed his hand, reassuringly. “You couldn’t have said it any better,” she sighed. “I feel very much the same way.”

She evidently couldn’t bring herself to actually utter those words - _‘loving you'_ , but that was as close as a confession as he thought he’d ever get. He didn’t want to push her to admit something she wasn’t ready to, something that would make her feel a betrayal to Benjamin. Instead, he was content to know that she returned his feelings, wholeheartedly.

“God, whenever I’m near you, I say more in five minutes than I’ve said weeks,” he admitted with a grin, letting go of her hands before he grew accustomed to the sensation. He wanted to lighten the mood before one of them broke down to tears - he just knew he’d be the first. “You have a fascinating hold over me, Miss Heywood.”

She laughed, a very pretty sound. “It’s actually the opposite in my case,” she replied. “I find I become quite at a loss for words around you, which I assure you is rather rare for me.”

Chuckling, he continued on their walk. “Now that is hard to imagine.”

She swatted his arm, playfully. “Just because we’re friends again does not give you permission to tease me, Mr Parker.”

He liked that; _‘friends again’._


	7. chalk and cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlotte begins to uncover a different side to her fiancé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't apologise enough for my delay in updating! i've been so busy at the moment that i couldn't find time to write, thus the shortness of this chapter. expect more drama over the next few chapters. as they say, the plot thickens...
> 
> enjoy!

Charlotte found that she truly had missed Sidney’s company. Besides the initial uncomfortable pauses and undeniable tension between them, he was a wonderful presence to be around, his smile making her feel lighter than air. Conversation never ran dry and he was (she hoped) always honest with her. It was also a relief to just be herself again, not trying to please and appease people.

Lately, she’d begun to think she’d become a caricature of herself, walking and talking with airs and graces that were wholly foreign to her in order to fit in with the high society crowd she’d been thrust into.

Now she was with Sidney, she knew she didn’t have to change in order to make herself more appealing to him; he liked her just the way she was, warts and all.

As they made their way back to town, she was amusing him with impressions of all the characters found in Sanditon. First she’d made him snort with laughter at her imitation of the pinched-face Mrs Griffiths.

“That’s uncanny!” he’d exclaimed. He paused. “What about Mr Hankins?"

Her impersonation of the droll Reverend, complete with his stuttering and gaping fish-like mouth, sent him into hysterics.

“You have such an ear for these things,” he complimented, when he’d calmed himself down.

She shrugged modestly. “A silly trick I learnt when I was little,” she explained. “To entertain my siblings.” At the mention of her family she felt a twinge of sadness.

Picking up on her sudden lamenting, Sidney leant into her, brushing her shoulder with his arm. “When was the last time you saw them all?”

“Not since the start of August,” she replied, wistfully. “Before I came to Sanditon I’d never been separated from them, now we've spent almost five months apart.”

Sidney’s shock was evident across his features. “This must be very difficult for you,” he told her, sympathetically. Then, something crossed his mind. “Does that mean they have yet to meet Benjamin?”

She nodded. “I wrote to tell them of my engagement, and they seemed overjoyed. I’ve been meaning to visit home, but something always kept me in London. A ball, a luncheon, a dinner.”

“Did he not ask you father’s permission for your hand?”

“Since it was I who asked, it wasn’t really necessary. My papa wants only my happiness, he doesn’t seek to gain anything, financial or otherwise, from marrying me off as many families do. My siblings and I have always been encouraged to make our own matches."

He narrowed his gaze at her, a smirk playing on his lips. “Still, I can imagine he’s quite pleased to hear of the situation you’ve landed yourself in.”

“That’s not fair,” she scolded him. “They would have been equally as supportive of me if I’d decided to marry a stableboy and not a Viscount.”

“Forgive me, that was a poor attempt at humour,” he apologised, quickly. Clearly, he did not want to begin another argument with her. Instead, he steered the conversation away from her impending marriage, and began to discuss a much more lighthearted topic; the Parker children.

He regaled her with tales of their antics over the last six months, of how Henry had chased after a flock of swans and fell into the lake, Tom being forced to jump in after his son, and of how Jenny had fed one of the donkeys half a jam tart, leading to the poor creature succumbing to horrendous diarrhoea.

Charlotte laughed and laughed, harder than she had in weeks, until tears were streaming down her face. It was only until she wiped them away and her vision returned that not only did she notice they were stood outside the inn, but that Benjamin was waiting for her, arms crossed.

“Well met, Rutherford,” Sidney greeted, a bright grin on his face that started to slip when he sensed hostility.

“Benjamin,” she said, as she stepped forward. “How was the tour?”

“Fine, it was fine.” He was being short with her, and she couldn’t work out why. “Charlotte, I’ve been waiting for nearly an hour for you. How long does a stroll usually take?”

She frowned at him. Where had this side to him come from? “We lost track of time, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were waiting for me or else we’d have walked back sooner.”

Benjamin glanced between her and Sidney, and his stern expression dropped. Suddenly, he was smiling at them both. “Nothing to be sorry for, my sweet, I overreacted. I was merely worried where you were, as this is still an unfamiliar place to me.” Then, before anyone could say something, he offered his arm out to her. “How would you like a horse ride down to the beach? I was reminded of how much fun we had riding in France when we were talking about it yesterday.”

“A ride sounds lovely,” she replied, looping her hand through his arm. Though she didn’t feel as though she had much choice, a ride did seem quite tempting. She turned to Sidney with an apologetic half-smile. “Goodbye, Mr Parker.”

-

Benjamin and Charlotte reached the local stables in a matter of minutes. Two beautiful horses, a glossy Thoroughbred and an elegant Haflinger, had been bridled for them by the stablehands. As they approached, the older stablehand handed Benjamin a picnic basket. Immediately, Charlotte felt guilty for dawdling with Sidney when her fiancé had arranged this delightful excursion for them.

“This is so thoughtful,” she told him, squeezing his arm.

He gave her a warm smile, then gestured to the horses. “Which one takes your fancy?”

It was no competition; “This one,” she decided, approaching the Haflinger. She was a wonderfully glossy marmalade colour, the mane and tail a striking pearl.

The younger stablehand offered her a step ladder, but she shook her head. She’d been riding horses since she could remember, and was capable enough of mounting it herself. Under her thighs, the horse responded remarkably well to her touch. “What’s her name?” she asked, patting her neck.

“This one is Chalk,” the older stablehand informed her. “That one is Cheese.”

She chuckled at the names, as Benjamin led them out of the stable and towards the beach. Their trot soon became a swift gallop, and somehow they were racing one another again. They passed Diana and Arthur on their daily walk, and Charlotte - who had they lead - risked slowing down to bid them a good day.

“What an excellent rider you are, Miss Heywood!” Arthur exclaimed, clapping his hands together delightfully.

Diana, on the other hand, was more concerned for her safety, always on the side of caution. “Do be careful!”

Waving at them, Charlotte sped away, hearing Benjamin hot on her heels.

The wind combed through her hair, causing it to billow behind her. She couldn’t help but smile, adoring the feeling of being a horse, which she likened to flying. It reminded her that while society liked to frown upon her for being raised in the countryside, she did manage to acquire some impressive skills that rivalled even the best embroiderers.

She could hear Benjamin calling out to her, though his words were lost in wind. She came to a halt, turning the horse around to face him - he wasn’t that far behind, but she could tell he hadn’t relented in catching her up. Triumphantly, she patted Chalk, proud that the pair of them beat the unlikely odds of coming out trumps in a race against a cavalry officer and a thoroughbred.

“I was saying here looks as good a place as any,” he finally said, trotting beside her.

All of a sudden she realised that, surveying her surroundings, she'd found herself in the very same cove in which she’d came upon a naked Sidney Parker. Certain that a blush had risen up her cheeks as the image flashed in front of her eyes, she merely nodded.

Benjamin dismounted first with ease, and held out his arms to help her down. Yes, it was a chivalrous gesture, but Charlotte couldn’t deny that she felt a twinge of annoyance - she was more than competent to get off a horse by herself. His cold hands rested either side of her waist, his touch like ice even through her cotton dress. As he lifted her down, he didn’t remove his hands as quickly as she had hoped, instead remaining rather close to her.

He was looking into her eyes with such an intensity she began to feel as though she were under a microscope, under his scrutiny. When he began to dip his head, his gaze now flitting between her eyes and her lips, she wriggled free with a shiver. There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to kiss her, and she didn’t _quite_ reciprocate his desire at that particular moment.

“Benjamin, we should wait,” she muttered, watching him carefully.

He was frustrated, though was making an effort to conceal his grievances. “Until what? My sweet, we have already shared a kiss have we not?” He took a step towards her, only succeeding in making her retreat even further.

He was right, they had shared a handful of kisses. They may have been modest, lasting only a couple of seconds, but they had been doting and affectionate. It was understandable that he had thought it acceptable to try and kiss her again. “I think it’s only . . . proper that we wait for our wedding.”

 _“‘Proper?'”_ he repeated, bemused. “Charlotte, our engagement thus far has been far from _‘proper’_. A mere kiss is not going to scandalise us further.”

He thought she was being prudish, which irked her a little. He was right, their engagement had been rather unseemly, so why couldn’t he just be satisfied with what he had? “You must have heard the rumours about us,” she implored. “What if somebody spotted us, without a chaperone? Why had fuel to the fire?”

“People are going to talk regardless of whether we’re caught kissing. Let’s not allow ourselves to be ruled by others’ opinions.” He made yet another advancement towards her, which she quickly rebuked. Suddenly growing tense, Benjamin narrowed his eyes at her. “Had you ever kissed anybody before me?” He paused, trying a gentler approach. “It’s alright if you have, my sweet. I’m not embarrassed to admit that I’ve kissed women before I’d met you.”

She hadn’t wanted to tell him, had desired to keep it a secret between her and Sidney. However, she couldn’t lie to her future husband about something quite significant. “Yes, I have. It was only the once, mind.”

He smiled at her, though she had a horrible sinking feeling that it was forced. “May I ask why you didn’t mind kissing that boy, but you find it perfectly acceptable to make me wait until we are married?” Despite his polite tone, she could hear the undercurrent of spite. Spite she hadn’t thought him to possess.

Feeling rather insulted by his line of questioning, she crossed her arms. “They’re two completely different circumstances.”

“Enlighten me, then.”

“No, it’s . . . it's not any of your business,” she stammered. Where had this forceful, vindictive man come from? It certainly wasn’t the one she’d proposed to.

Benjamin scoffed. “None of my business?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. “I’ve just discovered my soon-to-be wife has been kissing other men, I think I’m entitled to know who he was. Have I met him?”

Flushing redder, Charlotte scowled at him. Again she found herself in a tricky situation. She didn’t want to lie, but she hadn’t intended on ever telling him the truth. Now how would it seem if she told him that her first kiss hadn’t been with some harmless boy from her village, but a man still rather prevalent in their lives?

His eyes darkened and his jaw tightened - her hesitance not only answered his question, but provided him with an incredibly vital clue. “Was it Parker?”

Her face burning, she gulped. “I don’t want to discuss it with you now.” It sounded such a petulant thing to say, especially considering her pout and crossed arms, but it was all she could think of. She was in no mood to divulge her, still quite raw, past with him, and not amidst an argument.

“So you don’t deny it?” he pushed, urgently, voice raised. His hands were in fists by his side.

“I . . . no, I don’t,” she sighed, scowling. Never one to enjoy confrontation, Charlotte decided that the only way to avoid getting trapped in an uncomfortable conversation she wasn’t ready to have was to jump back onto her horse and ride back into town. Once there she’d make her mind up where to go further, whether it be back to the inn or to see Georgiana and get her take on the matter.

The ride back was far less enjoyable than it had been on the way towards the beach. The more she thought about the argument with Benjamin, the more it stung. She hadn’t thought he was a man quick to anger, didn’t believe he had a temper. Had she not told Sidney a mere few hours ago that the reason she endeared herself to her fiancé was because he hadn’t once pushed her into a situation that made her uncomfortable, and that he’d allowed the relationship to blossom entirely at her pace.

Now, she felt naive and deceived.

Trotting into the stables, Charlotte was surprised to find Sidney tending to a pair of intimidating Shire horses.

“Oh, Mr Parker. Is this you coming or going?” she asked him, rather abruptly. She couldn’t help her abrupt tone, she merely wanted to thrust the topic of conversation onto him.

Sidney finished unbridling the horse before turning to her. “Coming. Well, not me, Eliza needed the carriage to go - " Stopping mid-sentence, his gaze fell upon her puffy eyes, and immediately his carefree expression dropped. Tenderly, he reached out to touch her. “Miss Heywood, what’s wrong?”

She flinched away from his hand, sliding down from the horse with a great thud. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

He frowned. “Where’s Benjamin?”

She felt hot tears prick the backs of her eyes again. “Running for the hills, I expect.” She was being far too blunt and unnecessarily rude to Sidney, so tried a different approach. “Where did Eliza venture out to?”

“That’s of little importance,” he replied, dismissing the question. He genuinely seemed concerned, which made her want to sob even harder. “Charlotte, you can tell me anything. Has something happened?”

The tentative way in which he said her name, something he hadn’t spoken out loud since the summer, and the gentleness to his eyes on her was far too much for her to cope with. Turning her back on him before he saw her tears, she shook her head furiously. “No, I’m just being silly,” she lied, her unsteady tone betraying her words. “Please, don’t worry.”

If Sidney was going to say anything else, he was interrupted by Benjamin riding into the stables. Quickly, he dismounted his horse and bound over to her.

“My sweet Charlotte, forgive me for my stupidity,” he began, his tentative tone a stark contrast to his harshness before. “I was - "

“Don’t.” She didn’t want to rehash their argument all over again, especially not with Sidney present.

Benjamin took a careful and calculated step towards her, clearly trying to ensure that he didn’t scare her off again, but Sidney swiftly intervened. He manoeuvred himself between them, holding a hand out. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned.

“Parker, I appreciate you looking out for my fiancée, but this is between us,” Benjamin replied, in a surprisingly calm voice.

Before moving away, Sidney looked to Charlotte for reassurance. “Mr Parker, it’s alright,” she quietly told him. She was certain that Benjamin wasn’t going to risk trying to kiss her again.

Sidney stepped away, though not before he gave her a look that she couldn’t quite read.

“Charlotte, I can’t apologise enough for my behaviour,” Benjamin continued, sounding quite desperate. His soft eyes and delicate tone was more like the man she cared for, and his reappearance made her thaw out a little. “I overreacted to something so menial, so trivial, that it’s actually rather humiliating.”

She dabbed at her eyes, the tears now dried up. “You made me feel so foolish. So small.”

He winced at this, as he screwed his eyes up tight. “Oh God, I’m ashamed at how I treated you,” he muttered. “I simply didn’t like the thought that you couldn’t tell me things, so I lashed out.”

She didn’t say anything, merely fiddled with her hands.

At her silence, he realised that a more satisfactory display of his remorse was needed. He got down on his knees, without a thought as to what unpleasantness from the horses was scattered about the floor, and clasped his hands together. “I was a buffoon. I apologise a thousand times over, and I promise that I will never raise my voice at you again.”

Despite herself, Charlotte couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight of her fiancé on the floor, quite literally begging for her forgiveness. She even let out a little laugh, as she pulled him to his feet. “Of course you’re forgiven,” she told him. Then, much more timidly she added; “I haven’t got much experience when it comes to such matters, if any at all, so please be patient with me.”

“My dear Charlotte, I’d wait forever for you.”

His words were enough to make her forget her warring emotions, if only temporarily. She threw her arms around him, as he scooped her off the ground with ease and spun her around. Laughing, she pleaded to be set down - the second she was, she locked eyes with Sidney across the stables. He’d been stood in the doorway the entire time, watching her reconcile with Benjamin.

The hurt and the disappointment in his expression was unmistakable, even if he did give her a little smile as he tried to convince her he was anything but glad for her.


	8. dispute at dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything comes to blows during lady denham's luncheon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for being so patient with me, i really don't deserve such loyal readers! i've been ridiculously busy with work that i haven't had much time to write. it's been too long since i've updated, but i hope the wait was worth it? once again, thank you! enjoy!

**_23rd December, 1819_ **

Desperately needing clarity, Sidney decided that he would seek out advice from an unexpected source; Georgiana.

His ward had made no secret of her disdain towards him the last few months. Whatever progress he had made in rescuing her from Beecroft and allowing her a proper parting with Otis was almost entirely ruined by his engagement to Eliza. Her mad dash to Paris had been, in part, to spite him for insisting she stay in Sanditon whilst he set up his new, if miserable, life in London.

With some trepidation, he knocked on Mrs Griffiths's door. Crockett swung the door open, and her disappointment was unmistakeable.

“Forgive me, Mr Parker, I thought you were Miss Heywood,” she mumbled, as she let him in. “Miss Lambe is upstairs, in her room.”

He tipped his head gratefully and ascended the stairs. He found Georgiana’s door ajar, so rapped his knuckles gently against the doorframe. She turned her head from where she was sat at her vanity, her large grin dropping immediately. “Oh, it’s you,” she huffed. Then, her scowl transformed into an expression of panic. “Charlotte’s going to be here any minute - Benjamin too, most likely.”

Hovering in her doorway, he gulped. “I . . . I won’t keep you long then,” he assured her, his mouth dry.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What have you come to scold me for today then? Let me guess, Mrs Campion is offended I didn’t come to call on her. Or, have I taught your nieces an irritating habit? Have I worn something outrageous? Please, stop me if I’m close.”

He glanced down at his feet. “Is that what you truly think I’ve come here to do? Tell you off?”

“That is all you ever come here to do,” she pointed out, matter-of-factly. With a sigh, she returned her attention to the elegant jewellery box on her vanity, spewing with a glittering array of earrings and rings, bracelets and necklaces. “In future, Sidney, leave a note at the door. Save us both the trouble of these long-winded discussions.”

He felt rather ashamed. He had been so quick to pin the blame of the deterioration of their relationship down to her lack of effort, even suggesting that Eliza had played a part, when it had been nobody’s fault but his. He had neglected her, once again, in favour of his own pursuits, no matter how selfless those pursuits were.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry that I’ve been such a - "

“Brute?” she offered, her back still to him.

The term sent a prickle down his spine; it had been the word he’d used to describe himself when apologising to Charlotte all those months ago. Did that mean she knew, had Charlotte told her, or was it merely a coincidence? “Yes, you could say I’ve been somewhat of a horrid brute,” he agreed, sheepishly.

Georgiana met his eyes in the mirror, and he could have sworn she smirked. “Look, I know that I haven’t been the easiest Antiguan heiress to be burdened with,” she teased.

“You mean there are others?” he jested.

She rolled her eyes, though the twinge to her lips was hard to miss. “What I mean to say is that I have not helped matters,” she continued, swivelling around in her seat again. “However, at least I began to make the effort, promising to do better by you. Then, Mrs Hoighty-Toighty comes along and you, once again, shirk all responsibility of me.” He presumed _‘Mrs Hoighty-Toighty’_ was Eliza. “I understand why you made the sacrifice you did, though I can’t help resenting you a little for it. Charlotte is too nice to say so and your family are far too relieved to be out of the poor house to tell you, but you made the wrong choice. Mrs Campion is not the sort of woman you want to sign your life away to. She’s conniving, she’s manipulative, she’s catty - need I go on?”

Sidney shook his head, his grip on his cane tight. Eliza was indeed all those things. “It isn’t your place - "

 _“Isn’t my place?”_ she repeated. “Sidney, of course it’s my place when you are my guardian and your misery seeps in to my life! Contrary to what you believe, I care for you.” This revelation caused a lump to form in his throat. “And, I care for Charlotte. Whilst you mope around, making her pity you, she is beginning to have doubts - "

“She's having doubts?”

Georgiana winced. “Damn, I hadn’t intended on telling you. You mustn’t let her know that you know!”

Sidney stepped further into her room, heart pounding. “Georgiana, I came here today in part to apologise for my awful behaviour, but also to ask your opinion on a certain, sensitive matter. Earlier today I caught Miss Heywood and Rutherford amidst a heated argument. He’d offended her somehow - she accused him of making her feel small. She seemed so angry, so wound up, which is so unlike her that it frightened me. Then, when he begged her forgiveness she took him back without a moment’s hesitation, as if nothing had happened. Tell me you do not think that this is most unlike her?”

She frowned at him, confirming his suspicions that this was questionable behaviour. “An argument you say? I’ve never known the pair of them to argue over anything. In fact, Benjamin is usually one to agree with everything Charlotte said.” Her scowl deepened. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right, I wouldn’t have thought Charlotte to be so passive about the situation. Something is odd."

“I’m not asking you to . . . spy for me, or anything of the sort, Georgiana, I just think that it would be a good idea if we keep a close eye on her. Find out what they were rowing about, and ensure that this was all just a misunderstanding and not something we need concern ourselves with. I wish only the best for Miss Heywood, and I . . . I _need_ to know that Rutherford is the one to make her happy.”

Pondering it over, her brow knitted, Georgiana nodded enthusiastically. “You can rely on me to watch over her.” This was perhaps one of the only things they ever saw eye to eye on; Charlotte.

-

Charlotte couldn’t help but notice a little friction between Georgiana and her fiancé as they made their way to Lady Denham’s for a luncheon; this time, to be held in Charlotte’s honour, though she knew it was all a ruse conceited by the old woman so that she could shamelessly pry into other people’s lives.

Georgiana had looped her arm through hers and was whisking her away at an agile pace, Benjamin having to take long strides to catch up. She hadn’t said as much as two words to him throughout the whole ten minutes, and most curiously, she would start a conversation, only to cut it dead when he would try and join in. It was all very unusual.

When Tom Parker and Mary Parker caught up to them, Benjamin was shoehorned into a rather one-sided conversation about Sanditon’s many merits versus Brighton’s, whilst Georgiana seemed thrilled to have her all to herself.

“You’re acting very strange,” Charlotte muttered, her brow furrowed.

Georgiana merely shrugged. “I’m apprehensive is all to be forced into attending another one of Lady Denham’s infamous luncheons,” she sighed, then reached out tentatively to tug a small curl free from Charlotte’s meticulous up-do. Satisfied, she smiled. “There. You’re not you if you don’t appear at least a little wild.”

Laughing, she squeezed her friend’s arm. “I was not raised in a pig-sty, you know,” she teased.

“No, you were raised on a farm, which, to some, is basically the same thing,” Georgiana joked. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I was raised on a plantation - me and you are one of a kind; outliers.”

 _Outliers._ That had been Sidney’s preferred term to call himself, to call them when they stood on the outskirts of that ball in London, watching the rest of society pass them by. Did Georgiana know that had been their word? She must have told her whilst they were in France. If not, was it Sidney who had divulged their secrets?

“Do you wear your hair up for Benjamin?” Georgiana suddenly asked.

“What an odd thing to ask!” Charlotte uttered, incredulously.

Again, Georgiana appeared unfazed. “It’s only an observation,” she replied, matter-of-factly. A pause. “Are you two alright? I sense some tension.”

Charlotte frowned. “You do?” Despite forgiving Benjamin for his out-of-the-blue behaviour, she’d be irresponsible to disregard it altogether. It had, admittedly, been weighing on her mind the whole evening before, and that morning getting ready. He’d been quick to act as though nothing had happened, whilst her thoughts only festered. She was waiting, she realised with a heavy heart, for him to turn again. “Well, there is something - "

She was interrupted by the sight of Arthur and Diana approaching them across the grass. Denham Place was a hundred meters or so away, and other guests could be seen filtering through the door in the distance. “Miss Heywood, Miss Lambe! How delightful to be reunited!”

There was something so infectious about Arthur’s cheery disposition that Charlotte found herself beaming from ear to ear, as she forwent all social conventions to wrap her arms around him in an affectionate embrace. “Arthur, you know I prefer Charlotte,” she told him. “Or Lottie if you truly must.”

He laughed, heartily, as Georgiana soon hugged him too. “Lottie, I like that,” he grinned. “And how about . . . Gigi!”

Giving it some thought, Georgiana warmed to her new nickname. “Only if you’ll allow us to call you Artie.”

He clapped his hands together; clearly he approved. “And so we shall be henceforth known as Lottie, Gigi and Artie, the most unlikeliest of friends!"

“What about you, Miss Parker?” Charlotte asked, turning to Diana.

She shook her head effusively. “Oh no, Diana suits me well enough, thank you.”

When Tom, Mary and Benjamin had caught up, they all made their way inside Denham Place, trepidation thick in the air.

Charlotte took Benjamin’s arm and a deep breath as they filed into the drawing room. Already there was Lord Babington and his wife, Esther, a rather reluctant-looking Crowe ever hanging on. Sidney was tucked into a corner with Eliza. They were muttering in hushed tones about something, in fact seeming to be arguing. They stopped when they spotted they had more company.

Eliza made no hesitation in bounding over to them, Sidney hot on her heels. Babington and Esther also approached her, though far more friendly. Crowe lingered behind them, arms crossed. He appeared to be sulking about something or other.

“Miss Heywood, I hear congratulations are in order!” Babington quickly got the first word in. “Is this the charming Captain Rutherford the whole of London is talking about?”

“I assure you, it is Charlotte’s name on everybody’s lips, not mine,” Benjamin laughed, stretching his hand out to shake Babington’s. “Lord Babington, I assume? And your lovely wife Esther?”

Never one to conceal her opinions of someone, Esther openly looked Benjamin up and down, skeptically. She said nothing, though her eyes said everything; I’m wary of you.

“You’re that fellow that chopped down all those Frenchies, aren’t you?” Crowe suddenly piped up, stepping forward. “I believe they made a cartoon out of you in the paper. Called you _‘The Red Peril’._ ”

Flushing, Benjamin wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead, Charlotte stepped in. “Benjamin, this is Mr Crowe,” she introduced, then bluntly added; “A man whose tongue is far too loose for his own good.”

Crowe flashed her a wink. “Is my tongue much on your mind, Miss Heywood?”

Whilst Charlotte blushed, Benjamin - and Sidney - shot daggers at Crowe, who merely, realising he was in hot water, took a hasty stroll around the room. Esther rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, everybody else does,” she sighed. “Miss Heywood, I must say I am most envious of your recent trip to Paris. You have to tell me all about it one afternoon.”

“Yes, that sounds lovely,” she replied, surprised. Esther had, after nearly a whole summer of being rather frosty, thawed out a little once her horrid step-brother had fled, and a promising friendship blossomed between the pair. Charlotte had always admired Esther’s unapologetic boldness.

“Excellent, I shall look forward to a visit from you in the New Year. Bring your fiancé, if you like.”

With that Babington and Esther left to greet the others, Sidney and Eliza remained. Eliza, who had been watching the scene unfold, seemed most put out. “Is there nobody who has not succumbed to your charms, Miss Heywood?” she asked, venomously. She glanced between Benjamin and Charlotte, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Or, is this not a conversation to be had with your fiancé present?”

Before any more nastiness could be said, Sidney whisked her away, mouthing an apology.

“What did she mean by that?” Benjamin muttered, his gaze on her intense. She could feel him tense up, and feared that a repeat of the day before was to be had.

“Nothing,” she whispered, trying to diffuse the situation.

Benjamin seemed unconvinced.

-

They were all taken to the dining table when Lady Denham finally deigned to make her appearance. She insisted upon, first, inspecting Benjamin, demanding he take a twirl so she may get a better measure of him.

“Hmm,” she muttered, as she took her seat at the head of the table. “I was going to inquire as to how your opinions on matrimony were so drastically changed, but I think I’ve deciphered the answer to that question myself.”

And she was off. Before Charlotte could even sit down too; that must have been record time. With a strained smile, she didn’t even respond.

As Benjamin pulled out the chair beside her, Lady Denham wagged her finger. “No, Captain, you are to sit beside me,” she instructed, pointing to the chair Esther had chosen. With another roll of her eyes, Lady Babington moved down one, begrudgingly allowing Benjamin the seat. That left Charlotte to sit in-between Crowe and Sidney, which brought back memories of her first luncheon at Denham Place; she hoped she had learnt since then to think a little before speaking.

Sidney pulled her chair out for her, which was rather chivalrous, though only worsened the deep glare from Benjamin across the table.

Nothing else was said until the butlers had completed a turn of the table, filling everyone’s glasses with wine. Many people took a much needed gulp of the booze, bracing themselves for Lady Denham’s onslaught of misguided and unwanted opinions.

She didn’t disappoint. “Now, am I right in thinking you’re the same Captain Rutherford who the papers raved about for weeks? The one with all those silly gilded medals?”

Benjamin nodded, though seemed to be distracted. His smile was very clearly plastered on for the benefit of the company. “I mean, I wouldn’t say _raved_ \- "

“Oh, pish posh, don’t try and act modest with me,” Lady Denham snorted. “I know what you Army men are like; I should know, I married one.”

“What company are you with, Captain?” Babington asked, taking pity on poor Benjamin, who had been forced under a rather harsh spotlight.

“The 10th Royal Hussars,” he replied, glad to be in conversation with someone other than Lady D. “It’s a cavalry regiment.”

Babington and Tom, the pair self-professed military enthusiasts (though would never join themselves) raised an eyebrow each. “The 10th Royal Hussars?” Tom whistled. "That’s prestigious indeed. And, you’re an officer too?”

Benjamin nodded again. Quick to prove herself a loyal fiancé, Charlotte piped up with; “He fought in the Battle of Waterloo, and was commissioned shortly afterwards.”

At this, everybody’s interest was peaked, even Eliza, who had been up until then doing a bad impression of somebody listening. Benjamin scarcely reacted however, avoiding her gaze.

“You fought in the Battle of Waterloo?” Mary enquired, eyes wide. “But you’re so young!”

Benjamin chuckled slightly. “I thank you for the compliment, but I must admit I'm twenty-seven,” he replied, then turned rather sombre as he was reminded of the dreadful battle. “There were much younger men than I that I fought alongside.”

“Less talk of war, please,” Lady Denham dismissed, turning her nose up at the table as though she could smell something rotten. “Tell me about your family, the Rutherford’s.” Before he had time to begin to respond, the old woman continued rambling on. "You know, I was once acquainted with your grandfather. He’d heard of my predicament in trying to find an appropriate husband for Esther, who you know his my niece, and offered me you as a potential match. Alas, I never received a response from your mother. Then, of course, Esther found Lord Babington, who doesn’t compare to a Viscount but I suppose makes her happy, and you became engaged to a farmer’s daughter. It makes me rather glad my matchmaking never came to fruition as it appears neither of you would have been very well suited!”

All those involved in Lady Denham’s poor attempt at an anecdote flushed a deep scarlet, with the exception of Esther, who merely rolled her eyes and took a swig of her wine.

Unsure where to start, or even if he should bother answering, Benjamin hesitated. “My family is very well, thank you for asking,” he finally said.

Not the gossip she was after, it seemed, so she pressed further. “Do they approve of your engagement to Miss Heywood? Or where they hoping for somebody a little more prosperous and titled?”

Benjamin, who Charlotte had expected to defend her, instead chuckled. “Yes, I think they wished that I had found somebody with a little more wealth, perhaps even land. My mother, in fact, took me to a ball to show me what she thought I’d be missing out on.”

Suddenly feeling as though a bucket of ice had been tipped over her, Charlotte felt thoroughly humiliated. He had never told her that before, that his parents hadn’t approved, even when she had voiced her concerns that they wouldn’t accept her, so to hear it first at a table with all of their friends was mortifying. She stiffened slightly, gripping her hands on her lap. She wasn’t entirely sure how to react without causing a scene, so she went against all her beliefs and remained silent.

Sidney surprised her by taking her hand in his under the table, softly giving her a reassuring squeeze. She should have pulled away from his touch, but she didn’t, instead holding him as though he was an anchor. Nobody except, of course, Benjamin noticed. He grew visibly irritated by this display of affection, and continued to discuss his parent’s agenda against marrying _‘beneath him’_. When he had actually said those words, Sidney jumped to her aid.

“I’d ask you what you make of Miss Heywood’s family, although I hear you have yet to meet them?”

Benjamin shot Charlotte an accusatory glance, his jaw tightening. She shied away from his gaze, looking down at her plate instead. “Well, I don’t see how that is any of your business,” he retorted, sharply.

The air suddenly became thick, the clattering of knives and forks halting as people became aware of the shift in tone. Lady Denham, who had been born with a nose that could sniff out drama miles off, leant into the tension wholeheartedly.

“How odd that you haven’t met your betrothed’s family, Captain Rutherford!” she tutted. “I mean, yes they may be simple farming folk, but surely you must have asked permission for Miss Heywood’s hand?”

Benjamin, who clearly didn’t like that he was being made out to be a villain all of a sudden, puffed his chest out, brows furrowed. “Actually, it was Charlotte who proposed to me,” he revealed to the table. Of course the Parkers and Eliza already knew, but to the other assembled company it was fresh-off-the-printers-the-ink's-still-wet news.

All eyes flitted to her again, as she felt another bout of humiliation ripple through her. “I don’t . . . " she trailed off, her voice small. Her words were getting stuck in her throat. Another reaffirming squeeze from Sidney, and she was filled with a newfound courage. She took a deep breath. “I don’t appreciate you sharing with everyone our private matters, Benjamin.”

Benjamin gave a disbelieving look around the table. “This is hardly everyone, Charlotte. Are they not your friends? Do you not want them to know the truth?” His eyes were blazing with a rage she had only previously discovered. “That I am, and always will be, your second choice?”

He had started to raise his voice, whilst hot tears pricked at the back of Charlotte’s eyes. “Please, don’t - "

“It doesn’t matter if I say it or not, they all already know! I appear to have been the last to find out that my future wife, the love of my life, is in love with another man! A man who, as I speak, is holding her hand under the table, acting the white knight!”

All heads now turned to Sidney, who, seemingly under pressure at being caught out so publicly, retracted his hand from hers. Simultaneously, Charlotte felt both mortified and devastated, a horrible, gut-wrenching combination. Not only had her feelings been made everyone’s business, but with Benjamin’s harsh words and Sidney’s sudden withdrawal, it was as though she had nobody left.

Nobody, except for her loyal friends at the table. “Perhaps this is a discussion for another day,” Mary spoke up, her eyes narrow on Benjamin. “I don’t believe that your fiancé is all too comfortable with you spilling such personal thoughts in company.”

Benjamin, whose face was bright red, whether out of embarrassment or anger she couldn’t quite tell, began to splutter. “But - “

Georgiana leapt out of her chair, startling everyone. “I am quite overcome and need a bout of fresh air. Charlotte, would you care to accompany me?”

Beyond grateful for the relief, Charlotte jumped at the chance to leave the stifling confines of the dining room, just as the tears started to fall. Behind her, Benjamin and Sidney both got to their feet quickly, though she had left the room before further arguing could commence.


	9. a social minefield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidney and Charlotte are given a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry it's taken me forever to update, my workload the last few weeks has been relentless! i've spent the last couple of days typing, deleting, then retyping this chapter, so i apologise for how short it is, i just wanted to give you all something to read.
> 
> i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy at this confusing and troubling time.
> 
> i really appreciate all the comments and kudos so far, it's been fantastic! enjoy!

Sidney was beginning to suspect that all he was capable of doing was worsening the situation for everyone. It had, admittedly, been foolish to try and comfort Charlotte with an audience made up of both their partners, but he’d been unable to stop from acting on the impulse to reach out to her.

When it came to Charlotte Heywood, he felt as though he could do no right. Countless times had he done something, with good intentions, only to realise that he’d only made things worse for her. Case in point; taking her hand during the luncheon.

It had been reckless for him to be so affectionate so openly, but he hadn’t been thinking straight. His mind was clouded, swarming with everything Charlotte - how sweet she smelt, how charming she looked, how softly she spoke. Only with her absence did the fog begin to clear, replaced by a sudden consuming anger for Benjamin Rutherford, the spluttering fool who gaped after his fiancé like a fish watching it’s dinner swim away.

However, before he could rip into the Captain, Mary, who scarcely raised her voice above a pleasant cheer, leapt to the front of the queue. “What horrid things to say!” she scolded, arms on her hips. “That poor girl is so clearly out of her depths here, and instead of supporting her you have the audacity to humiliate her for how she feels.”

“How she feels about another man!” Benjamin was quick to point out. It made Sidney’s throat dry.

Mary, backed into a corner, acted with remarkable integrity. “Have you actually had a conversation with Charlotte about her feelings? Or is this all speculation?”

Benjamin began to splutter. “Well, I . . . uh, I haven’t . . . " he struggled to string a sentence together.

Now it was Esther’s turn to defend her friend; an unlikely friendship that took them all by surprise. “You fool. She’s young, she’s navigating a social minefield, with little to no guidance. She’s relying on her friends here for support she is _clearly_ not receiving from you.”

As usual, Esther had hit the nail on the head. Benjamin couldn’t disagree with her without looking like a complete arrogant so-and-so. Instead, he let out a deep, exasperated sigh and slumped back down in his seat. Head hung in his hands, he took a few moments before he spoke again. He was taking his time to mull over his words now, aware of his tendency to speak before thinking.

“You’re right. I’ve been a pigheaded buffoon.” Sidney resisted the overwhelming urge to concur. “What should I do?”

“First, you can go and apologise to her,” Sidney instructed. It had been the first time he’d spoken since he’d accused the Captain of neglecting Charlotte and her desire to see her family. Everybody turned to look at him, Eliza’s gaze burning the fiercest. “It wasn’t her fault what happened during luncheon. I . . . I acted against my better judgement and sought to comfort her. Nothing more. She didn’t deserve the way you spoke to her, or the things you said. If the blame is to placed anywhere, it’s at my feet.”

A dark shadow crossed Benjamin’s features. Jaw tightened, he leant forward in his chair, elbows firm on the table. “Oh I know,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “We were happy in France, before you floated back into her life again. You, Parker, are at the root of all our problems. You almost spoilt her once, I won’t let you have another chance.”

“How happy were you really?” Sidney couldn’t help it. He had tried to be the better man, tried to step back. Yet, he couldn’t let Charlotte go so easily. Not to somebody who wasn’t worth her.

Benjamin narrowed his eyes, resembling an eagle contemplating swooping in for the kill. “Very. One evening, in fact, she told me that she was the happiest she had been in a long while.”

That stung, and Sidney, who had mastered stoicism so well over the years, was certain from the triumphant expression on Benjamin’s face that he had slipped up and let his hurt be shown.

“You don’t know the first thing about Charlotte,” he spat, bitterly. Jealousy was getting the better of him now, causing him to act out in front of company. “You don’t know how to make her happy, not like - "

“You, Parker?” Benjamin interjected, harshly. His accusation cut through the thick air as swiftly as the sword he brandished on the battlefield, bringing Sidney back to the ground. “How happy have you made her, truly? From what she has told me, the pair of you engaged in more shouting matches than pleasantries. You have made her cry more times than she could count. She left town, heartbroken and sobbing, because of you. Those are not the actions of a man who has her happiness in her best interest.”

Sidney felt as though he had been slapped, his anger dissipated, instead intense guilt and shock left behind. He had made her cry, he had broken her heart. How could he ever forgive himself?

“She left because of you?” piped up a small, unsteady voice beside him. It was Eliza, his fiancé, whom he had forgotten all about amidst his blazing argument. It was the first time he had ever heard her sound so unsure of herself. She looked, suddenly, ten years younger, reminding him of the round-faced, innocent blonde he was once betrothed to. Another lifetime ago, seemingly.

Staring at her, her dull eyes tinged with sorrow, it dawned on him that she never really knew the depth of his feelings for Charlotte. She had been ruthless in her pursuit of him, blind to others. Her ultimatum she had given him, marriage with enough compensation to cover his brother’s foolish business missteps, was accepted without any sort of explanation to his inner turmoil. He had, embarrassingly, bitten off her hand when she had held out the deal, which must have caused her to believe he was keen to wed her. Rightly or wrongly, Eliza had been misled too.

Further waves of guilt consumed him, as he tried to form an appropriate sentence, something that would explain Benjamin’s comment.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Benjamin interceded. He was relishing in being the one to reveal everything to Eliza, and managed to divulge the information before somebody could prevent him. “You won, Mrs Campion. Parker here had intended to propose to Charlotte when he returned from London in the summer, after the fire. However, you struck the bargain with him first, forcing him to choose between you and her. He chose you, leaving Charlotte waiting devotedly at home for him to come back to her.”

Eliza’s eyes, momentarily, shot open wide as saucers. A tiny squeak, reminiscent of a mouse caught in a trap, escaped her lips, before she quickly composed herself. Turning to Sidney, her arms crossed, face blanched, she tapped her foot. “Is this true?”

Sidney could only gawp, blankly. What could he possibly say to smooth the situation over? He had to keep her complacent, or risk losing his brother’s safety net. However, all he wanted to do was chase after Charlotte and take her into his arms, promising never to disappoint or hurt her again. “I’m afraid - "

Eliza huffed before he could finish, and stormed out the large mahogany doors, which were hurriedly hoisted open by the footmen who had been caught off-guard.

Everyone was left flabbergasted, glancing awkwardly at one another. Only Benjamin looked pleased with himself, leaning back in his chair as though he had won with a fantastic hand at a rather trifling game of cards. Sidney’s hand was twitching, aching to knock the smug Captain backwards.

“Are you going to go after her, Sidney?” Tom hastily asked, throwing his arms wide. In light of the revelation his brother had gotten engaged for _his_ benefit, Tom was typically focused on himself, his demeanour frantic, as if he was physically watching his fortune slipping out from between his fingers.

Instinctively, his eyes flickered towards the door that Charlotte had exited out of instead. He then met Mary’s gaze, soft and sympathetic. She was pleading, silently, with him to go after her dear friend.

“Make the right choice, Mr Parker,” Lady Denham chirped up, out of the blue. She had been watching the delicious drama unfolding at her supper table with keen eyes, darting back and forth between Charlotte Heywood’s two suitors as though it were a rather riveting tennis match. “Or else you’ll regret it."

-

Vision blurred by the flowing tears, Charlotte didn’t stop walking until she felt Georgiana’s hand on her shoulder. She didn’t turn to face her friend, instead in a rash decision she roughly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand; she didn’t much like to cry in front of people.

“Charlotte?” Georgiana began, tentatively. She had adopted a soft, delicate tone, as gentle as a silk to touch. “What’s going through your head? Please, you can tell me.”

With a shaky sigh, she opened her mouth to speak, though wasn’t quite sure where to begin. A million and one thoughts raced through her mind, all scrambling over one another, determined to be the loudest voice. It made her feel rather dizzy. “It’s all so . . . so conflicting.”

“Conflicting?” Georgiana furrowed her eyebrows. “How so?”

As Charlotte tried to formulate an answer, the voices rose to a deafening bellow, and she felt all of a sudden incredibly faint. Sensing her discomfort, Georgiana acted fast and swiftly hooked an arm around her back and led them to a stone bench amongst Lady Denham beloved rose bushes.

The relief offered Charlotte temporary silence. “I’m afraid that I’ve made a horrendous mistake.”

“In agreeing to marry Benjamin?”

Charlotte nodded, her lip wobbling.

“Because of Sidney?”

Once more she nodded, a pool of tears welling up.

“You’re still in love with him?”

Charlotte closed her eyes, a gushing, non-stop stream of tears cascading down her cheeks.

Georgiana took a deep breath. It was far too easy to tell Charlotte to forget Benjamin and run back to Sidney, far too simple. It was a complex matter, the three of them - four, if you included Eliza. She had to ensure that Charlotte was able to talk about it, able to make an informed decision.

“Do you love Benjamin?” she asked, carefully.

This was a trickier question to answer. Charlotte mulled over her words, before shrugging. “I had thought so,” she admitted. “In France, he made me forget about . . . about the summer. I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him. Now, however, all I can think about is Sidney. When will I see him next, what can we discuss, what is he doing when he’s not with me?” Her voice cracked. “How wicked of me.”

“Wicked?” Georgiana couldn’t help but chuckle a little, as she reached out and took her friend’s hand in hers. “Charlotte, you are the furthest thing from wicked.”

“Don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve it. The way I was thinking about Sidney - Mr Parker - is indecent, it’s not proper. It’s not fair to my fiance, or his.”

“My dear, but if you love one another - “

Like a flash of lightning, Charlotte tugged her hand free from Georgiana’s grip. “Don’t. Don’t say such a thing.”

“Is it not true? You love each other, do you not?”

Charlotte couldn’t bear to hear the words. Screwing her eyes shut, she shook her head fiercely. “There’s more to this situation than love. The world does not revolve around me and who I love. If I was to follow my heart blindly, I’d be meddling with lives I have no business interfering in. The Parkers, for one, would be rendered destitute. I would not be able to live with myself if I was the cause of their downfall. Sidney chose Mrs Campion because she could help him - I, on the other hand, have nothing to offer. I haven’t a dowry, I haven’t a title or reputation.”

“You offer him true love.”

“A drop in the ocean compared to what Mrs Campion has.”

Georgiana knew it was no use arguing the merits of love over money, knowing that Charlotte was far too loyal and good-natured to say she truly wanted Sidney. Instead, she turned to the other side of the coin. “What about Benjamin then? Why marry him, when we both know your heart belongs to Sidney?”

It came out harsher than she had intended, forcing Charlotte into a corner where she began to defend her betrothed. “I _do_ care for Benjamin. He isn’t some faceless stranger I’ve attached myself to for the sake of an esteemed marriage.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest any different, I just think that you’re behaving as though your only two options are Sidney and Benjamin,” Georgiana pointed out, matter-of-factly. “There’s a whole world full of potential suitors; you haven’t got to settle for the first man to flash you a charming smile.”

“I haven’t!” Georgiana knew that Charlotte hadn’t; she remembered all too keenly the countless array of men that would watch as Charlotte entered the room, clamouring to get a better look. “I really do enjoy Benjamin’s company. I do truly believe he could make me happy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So you admit that he’s not making you happy currently?” Charlotte didn’t utter a word, which spoke volumes. Instead, Georgiana hoisted the pair of them to their feet, and looked her friend square in her eyes. “Humour me; the man who walks out of those doors first is the man you’re destined to marry, I’m sure of it.


	10. three months later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlotte cannot wait to return back to sanditon, but why? what's waiting for her there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everybody for being so patient and so supportive. i've been so unbelievably busy, and despite it being my holidays i've now found that i'm struggling with work i've let build up, so i've not been as dedicated to writing as i had wanted to be.
> 
> i really hope you all enjoy this new chapter, it's not that long but i wanted to give you all something to read!

**12th April, 1820**

_Three months later_

Charlotte remarked on life’s little pleasures, as she sat up in bed drinking oolong tea, reading _Persuasion_ for the fourth time that Spring. The rising sun was peeking in through the windows, the birds melodic chirps promising a bright new day. She had a gorgeous new hat to wear, a present sent by Georgiana from Edinburgh - her next big adventure, though this time based in the home counties so that her family could keep a close eye on her.

She was rather aware that her romanticised view of what otherwise would have been a very plain Wednesday morning was all due to the fact she had a seat booked on the earliest coach to Sanditon that day. She could hardly contain her excitement from bubbling out, the sea air already ripe in her nose.

A knock on the door from one of the maids informed her she was to be dressed and made ready for breakfast, her last in London for the next week.

After slipping into her undergarments and soft lilac dress, Charlotte raced down the stairs before the maid could begin tidying up her hair.

“Is that you I hear galloping down, Lottie?” laughed Lady Susan, her voice as harmonious as the morning birds.

Charlotte sat down at the table, strands of hair in her eyes, as she unfolded the napkin onto her lap. She beamed across the table at her friend, as the butler poured her a cup of black tea. “Good morning, Susan,” she greeted, charmingly.

Susan beamed at her over her own steaming mug. “My, my, I haven’t seen you this giddy since your hat arrived from Georgiana.”

“I’m merely looking forward to my trip to Sanditon today,” Charlotte replied, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her features.

“Really, is that today?” Susan sarcastically inquired, knowing full well of her friend’s travel plans. “It had completely slipped my mind.”

Charlotte revelled in the back-and-forth banter she shared with her dear friend. Status and social conventions were thrown out the window, and the pair were allowed to simply enjoy one another’s company. Laughing, she began to tuck into a bowl of hearty porridge, of course heaped with a more than generous helping of raspberry jam.

“Who are you to be staying with when you arrive in Sanditon?” Susan asked, curiously. She stirred her tea with a spoon, daintily. “I know you’ve told me, but it’s slipped my mind.”

“Mary has kindly offered to host me,” Charlotte answered, smiling. “I’ll be busy with wedding planning so I hope I won’t get underfoot.”

Susan tutted. “My dear, you’re a delight to be around, you couldn’t possibly be in the way.”

“You’re too kind,” replied, modestly.

They ate and chatted amicably, though it was clear Charlotte had other things on her mind. As the butler cleared their plates, she anxiously turned to the clock on the wall. Quarter to eight.

“Oh, go on then,” Susan sighed, good-naturedly. She was just as excited for her as Charlotte was. “You’re practically bouncing up and down in your chair, I’m afraid you’ll burst if I keep you here any longer.”

Without having to be told twice Charlotte shot up, and disappeared out the door. A moment later she bound back in, and threw her arms around Susan. It was rather unorthodox and impulsive, but that was Charlotte all over, and Susan had come to expect, and love, that about her. She gave her arm a squeeze, and gave her a warm, wide smile.

“Have a fabulous time my dear,” she said, softly. As Charlotte thanked her and made her way back towards the door, where her suitcase and new hat were waiting for her, Susan called after her; “Give my best to Sidney, won’t you?”

At this Charlotte blushed a deep crimson, and hastily waved goodbye. Whilst the sun was shining, and the breeze was light, it was still quite fresh out, and she was grateful for the carriage Susan had lent her to take to the coach station. The ride through Soho was pleasant, though she still wasn’t quite used to the ritzy grandeur of it all, of the people walking past. Riding in the Worcester carriage she did attract quite a few stares, and decided that peering out of the window wasn’t the best idea. Too many people in London knew who she was before she knew their names, and she didn’t much like the thought of being a juicy piece of gossip the upper classes whispered about.

When she arrived at the station, she glanced around at the others waiting. There was a rather a lot gathered, and she hoped that many of them had been booked onto other journeys, or else she risked the prospect of sitting up with the driver - riding horses was a thrill, riding in the passenger seat beside a driver was, from past experience, extremely dull. They would either never utter a single word, or talk incessantly about topics she didn’t care much for, such as gambling or drinking.

Fortune was on her side, as slowly throughout the course of the morning people filtered onto the separate coaches to Bristol, to Torquay, to Manchester, and to Portsmouth. The Sanditon carriage was next, and eagerly Charlotte scooped up her suitcase. She thought she was the only one boarding the coach, when somebody bustled in after her.

Her heart dropped. Eliza Campion sat across from her, a tart expression on her features, as if she smelled something acrid.

“Oh, hello,” Charlotte muttered, not wanting to be rude.

As expected, Eliza said nothing in return. She merely crossed her hands on her lap and stared out of the window, where her gaze remained fixated for a good hour or so.

Uncomfortable in both silence and awkward tension, Charlotte tried to read some more of her beloved novel, though found that she couldn’t concentrate on the words properly. She read, and reread, and reread again the same passage over and over until the words were nothing but blurry smudges. Feeling a migraine coming on, she closed the book with a small sigh and dared to glance up at Eliza.

The other woman had been staring at her for some time, with an impenetrable anger behind her eyes that made Charlotte fear she was going to turn to stone.

“How does it feel knowing you’ve won?” she asked, sharply and rather abruptly.

Charlotte was flummoxed. “I beg your pardon?” Eliza was practically seething, her eyes flitting down at the glittering diamond on Charlotte’s finger. “Look, if this is about Sidney - “

Eliza scoffed, cutting her off short.

“I’m sorry if . . . if I caused any . . . any animosity, it was never my intention,” Charlotte tried, tripping over her words. The ferocity in which Eliza was looking at her made her feel incredibly nervous, and inexplicably guilty.

“Don’t feign innocence with me,” she spat. “That may be why he loves you, but I can see right though your naïve little schoolgirl act.” Act? Charlotte wasn’t aware of any sort of act she was supposedly putting on. “You know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve always known the effect you have over him.”

“I assure you I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about - “

Eliza leant forward so quickly that it made Charlotte flinch. She could feel her heart hammering away in her chest, as she held her breath, waiting for something awful to happen.

“How does it feel knowing you’ve got two men wrapped around your finger? Your fiancé, the most sought after bachelor in the country, and my fiancé, the great love of my life?"


	11. the undoing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlotte returns to sanditon to plan her wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> firstly, let me profusely apologise for being away for so long. i have a long list of excuses, including working on an island for several months without sufficient connection, losing a family member, moving back home, and breaking my laptop. i have appreciated all the support from people across all my sidlotte works, it's so overwhelming and comforting to be in such a lovely space where everybody is so kind and caring. i am back, with plans to update everything, and with some more stories if you fabulous readers are still interested?
> 
> for now, please enjoy, and let me know what you think <3

“What are you accusing me of, Mrs Campion?”

Charlotte felt awfully victimised, which she despised as she hated to think of herself as a victim. However, the incriminating way in which Eliza was staring down at her and the biting tone she was using suggested that the two women were at loggerheads, and Eliza believed herself to be in the right.

"You're always so pious, aren't you?" Eliza sneered, ignoring the question. "So high and mighty. You won, Miss Heywood, no need to keep up any pretences with me. I know what's truly going on behind those pretty doe eyes of yours, behind all the sweetness and ribbons. You're a viper, cunning and malicious."

"I haven't the faintest clue where this is coming from," Charlotte spluttered, clutching her book until her hands were shaking.

That wasn't entirely true. She knew Eliza had never been fond of her, not since she first saw the way Sidney looked at her. She knew Eliza was blindsided by the row that had broken out over Lady Denham's luncheon all those months ago, that she didn't take too well to being pubicly denounced as second best. Lastly, she knew that Eliza blamed her for it all.

"He still loves you, you silly girl," Eliza spat, quieter this time. Tears were starting to bubble in her cold eyes, as she sat back in her seat, cosing herself off.

Charlotte felt like crying herself. "No, he isn't," she sighed back. She was exhausted by it all, the constant back-and-forth in her mind over whether Sidney Parker still loved her, whether he _ever_ loved her. When Benjamin had burst through the garden doors first at that dreadful luncheon, Sidney nowhere in sight - with her to discover that he had went after Eliza instead - she resigned herself to the fact that whatever he felt for her, however true or deep, it wasn't enough. That it was never going to be enough. He could hold her hand under the table, could whisper sweet nothings to her when they were alone, but in the company of others he was a coward and treated her as indifferently as he would any other girl of her stature. Benjamin doted on her, made up tenfold for the insensitive things he had said. That was what she deserved, not the scraps of affection Sidney gave her.

"He doesn't love me, if he ever did," she repeated, in a more steady voice that made her seem much tougher than she felt.

"Had he not intended to propose, before I so dreadfully intervened?" Eliza countered, throwing her arms up.

Charlotte couldn't argue with that, and she rather wished Eliza hadn't brought the matter up. "Well, he did not so it is of no consequence. He engaged himself to you. He chose you, never even giving me a chance. Does that not prove his love for you?"

"All that proves is that he would rather have you than me. Are you trying to rub my face in it, Miss Heywood?"

Shaking her head, Charlotte tried to amend her carelessness. "Not at all, I'm merely hoping you could see what I see. That he came back to you."

Eliza scoffed. "Oh, how romantic."

The pair sat in silence for a good while, not daring to break eye contact for fear of seeming weak and pitiful.

"As somebody who _felt_ Sidney's love, all those years ago, I know that what we have now isn't that. It's the farthest thing from love imaginable. It's resentment, and begrudging, and bitterness. The way he is around you, Miss Heywood, one would be blind not to notice it. He loves you far more than he could have ever loved me." Before she could end the sentence without her trademark spitefulness, she added; "And you're throwing it away, you foolish child."

Charlotte felt like screaming. She wanted nothing more than to stop the carriage and walk off into the wilderness where she could be alone to think and feel and _scream_. In the tiny, confined space, with Sidney's fiance, she was suffocating. "What will you have me do then, Mrs Campion? I am engaged, my wedding only a week away."

"Oh, I'm not giving you all the answers Miss Heywood," Eliza replied. "Don't think I'm letting you have him that easily."

-

Arriving in Sanditon a few hours later, Charlotte felt as though she were walking through a fever dream. People were stopping her in the street to say hello, stopping to have a chat with her, yet she felt completely outside of herself, as if she was watching herself from up above.

She reached Trafalgar House, and seconds before she could knock on the door, a horrible thought knocked her sideways. If Eliza had been travelling to Sanditon too, did that mean she was staying with the Parkers as well? And if she was there, was Sidney to join her later, or was he already waiting inside? The possibilities were nerve-wracking, and she didn't much like her odds.

Before she could be seen by anybody indoors, she turned down the street and made her way to the local inn, deciding her odds there were better.

After settling into her room, the cheapest one available, she set about her rounds. She had a hefty list to work through if everything was to be ready for her wedding day. If she stopped and pondered what that meant for too long, she would feel overwhelmed and frightened and lonely, so instead of dwelling on her mind-boggling conversation with Eliza, she threw herself into her tasks.

First, the chapel to meet with the priest.

It had been her one request of the wedding, that it be held in Sanditon. She didn't care for the guests much, as long as her family and dear friends could attend, and she didn't really have any sort of opinion on the decorations or food or even where their wedding tour would be. She simply wanted to be married by the sea, in a place that felt like home. Willingdon, for all it's charm and nostalgia, was not equipped to hold the scale of the affair, and she'd feel somewhat embarrassed to have her wedding on the farm, especially when she was marrying a Viscount.

The priest was not as easy to locate as she had initially thought, and after what was essentially a wild goose chase around town to find him, Charlotte found herself exasperated and wracked with tension that she ultimately gave up. The sun was beginning to set, and her stomach was rumbling - she had not eaten anything since her jam-filled porridge that morning. She could smell hot dinners being cooked all throughout the town, with families sitting down to eat with one another. Hoping to find respite inside the inn, she was inundated with half-cut fishermen and some high-society Lords playing a rather animated game of cards in the corner.

It only made Charlotte feel more alone.

She retired to her room, famished and weary, close to tears yet again. Collapsing onto her creaky little bed, she let her emotions spill out. Spill out they did; she had kept them bottled up for so long, all her confusion, her heartache, her guilt.

She felt ridiculous for being so enthusiastic about returning to Sanditon, for being so wrapped up in herself. Eliza's pain was as clear as day, even if she did channel it with a nasty tongue, forcing Charlotte to realise that she truly tried to absolve all responsibility for the hurt she had caused. How horrid! Yes, the blame wasn't entirely with her, Sidney had certainly played his part, but she hadn't ever given Eliza the benefit of the doubt. Did she know of Sidney's feelings for another? More than likely. Did she know of Sidney's plan to propose to another? Surely not.

Not only did she feel terrible for how she'd made Eliza feel second rate, but she felt an overwhelming shame for how she was leading Benjamin on. Only that morning had she _still_ been convincing herself that what she shared with him was worth all the strife, worth giving up on all else. She'd told herself if she couldn't have Sidney, then Benjamin would do. How was that a fair basis to any marriage? Was that not the same founding for Sidney and Eliza's engagement, the same reasoning that was upsetting Eliza so sorely?

It was too much to think about, too much to bear.

Charlotte had been in Sandtion barely an afternoon, and already she was losing all the progress she had made in terms of forgetting the events of the last summer.

But of course, she couldn't forget. Not truly.


	12. a dreadful morning all round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlotte decides what to do with her time in sanditon, whilst sidney comes to some revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope everybody is coping with the rising tensions at the moment around the world, and that you are all safe and well. if this story is providing any sort of escape for people, as it is for me writing, then i'm glad to be of some help, regardless of how small.
> 
> i truly do love to read everybody's predictions and theories, and i'd love to hear more! enjoy!

_Dearest Charlotte,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, and with it I send my love._

_This tedious Naval event that has taken me from your side is nearing it's end, thus meaning I will be one step closer to becoming your husband. I can't quite believe the wedding is in less than two weeks - it cannot come soon enough._

_I am writing this letter for two purposes; to ask after my wife-to-be, and to beg one request of you. Mother has been in such a state, fretting about our wedding day, the stress giving her quite the sorest of ailments. She has always envisioned the Rutherford heir to be wed at our ancestral estate in Cornwall. She had not quite comprehended the extent of your desire to hold our wedding in Sanditon, and thus went ahead and made all the arrangements weeks prior._

_I apologise profusely, as I know how your heart yearns for your quaint seaside resort. However, you must understand that as the next Earl of Falmouth I would be remiss to not have such an illustrious affair on my own lands, especially when my mother has gone to so much trouble at our expense._

_My love, I hope you can forgive me when you see what delicious delights I have planned to gift you when we next reunite, which if all goes to plan here shouldn't be too long. Three days at the most._

_In light of this new information, perhaps you should book yourself on the next coach to London? My father still resides in the townhouse, and I'm certain he will most graciously host you until I return, when we can ride to Cornwall together._

_All my love,  
Benjamin._

Charlotte threw the letter down with a huff, tears prickling at her eyes.

Benjamin requesting the wedding to be held in Falmouth was the cherry on top of what was gradually becoming a rather dreadful cake. Her whole trip back to Sanditon had been a failure, beginning with her misfortune to share a carriage with Eliza, ending with the wedding not happening at all in the town. Her fiance could have, at the least, sent the letter a little sooner, so that she didn't make the trip to Sanditon for nothing.

Waking up to that letter promised a wholly disappointing day, and with Charlotte avoiding the Parker residence like the plague, and Georgiana being detained in Scotland, she had half a mind to do as Benjamin asked and return back to London as soon as she possibly could. There wasn't much she wished to do other than wallow in her own self-pity.

However, she had been raised as a go-getter, a Heywood who woke up with the sun and made the most of everyday. Forcing herself to dress and eat some unsatisfying breakfast, she decided that she wasn't going to waste the sea air, so would take a dip in the ocean to clear her head. For clearing it needed, too many inappropriate thoughts of love and Sidney and, heavens forbid, _elopements_.

-

"What if something frightful has happened to her?"

Mary was making much ado after Charlotte had not arrived when she had been expected. Tom had tried his best to calm his wife, reminding her that Charlotte was a very capable young woman who had now travelled the world - an embellishment at best, as France was hardly considered global - and that she had more than likely been held up in London.

Sidney wanted to believe she was alright, that Tom was right in saying that Charlotte was more than competent, however he couldn't help but recall a rather concerning memory at the back of his mind; when he had rescued her from a knife-wielding attacker in an alleyway off of Honey Lane. It was this that kept him from touching his breakfast, instead trying his hardest to absorb himself in the daily newspaper - to no avail.

"You remember how chaotic planning a wedding was!" he exclaimed, digging into his sausage and bacon with much enthusiasm. Arthur wasn't the only Parker brother whose eyes were bigger than their belly.

Mary sighed. She could worry about the tiniest of matters at the best of times - a missing guest was practically sending her haywire. "Do you think we should have sent a . . . a search party or something? Get some bodies on the ground looking for her?"

" _'Bodies on the ground'_?" Tom chortled. "Mary, there is no need to go organising some great military escapade to find Charlotte. She'll be somewhere safe and sound, rest assured."

At this teasing, Mary stunned them all by leaping out of her chair, her eyes wild. "Do not laugh at me Tom!" she cried out, sounding close to tears. "I'm beyond concerned for the fate of our Charlotte, who may now be worldly and wise, but is still a girl of twenty-one entrusted to our care! If this was one of your damned party guests then you'd be as frantic as I, but alas you clearly do not care a fig!"

Hastily, Tom rushed to amend his poor behaviour. "My dear, forgive me for my callousness," he said, reaching out to hold her hand. She flinched from his touch, which clearly wounded him, though he pressed on. "I am just as worried as you, though I thought it best to keep a positive attitude. I see now that this was foolish of me. I will go to investigate the coach station at once." He glanced to his brother for guidance. "Sidney, won't you join me?"

Without hesitation Sidney nodded, the pair getting up out of their seats immediately. The footmen brought over their coats, as Tom hovered by Mary, still attempting to apologise.

"Where are the esteemed Parker brothers off to so early?" Eliza pondered, appearing in the doorway.

"Charlotte did not arrive yesterday, and we are all afraid something unspeakable might have happened," Tom answered, suddenly a pioneer for Charlotte's well-being. "We're off to seek answers now."

The pause in Eliza's response gave Sidney cause for unease. "What aren't you letting on?" he queried, slowly. She knew something they didn't.

"I . . . I shared the carriage with Miss Heywood yesterday," she admitted, still keeping up her airs and graces despite being royally caught out. "If I had known you had any interest of her being in town, I . . . I would have said something, naturally."

" _Naturally_ ," Sidney muttered, shaking his head with contempt.

Mary gasped, clutching her chest. Tom helped her sit down, silently relieved he did not have to do any legwork quite so early on. "Oh, thank heavens for that."

"See my dear, all is well," Tom smiled, handing his coat back to the footman.

Eliza hovered in the doorway, unsure of the welcome she would now receive at the breakfast table.

"Why wouldn't you say something sooner?" Sidney asked, feeling more exasperated than enraged. In all honesty, he shouldn't have expected any less of her.

"I hadn't thought it of any importance," she told him, clearly not even believing herself. "I apologise if I caused any unintentional grief."

Sidney rolled his eyes and slumped back into his chair. He had been fulled with nerves as of late, and had had the most fitful of sleeps fretting over the whereabouts of Charlotte. He hadn't the patience to argue with her that morning, or indeed any morning thereafter.

He looked over at Mary, who he had thought would be pleased at the news, however only found her to be distraught again.

"What's the matter?" he asked her gently.

She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, one that the children had gifted her with for Mother's Day. "If Charlotte did indeed arrive in town yesterday, then where is she? Why did she not come here? Have we done something to offend her in anyway?"

At this, Sidney took full responsibility. "Mary, I don't believe it is you she was hoping to avoid."

Mary's eyes widened to the size of her dinner saucers, as she shook her hand free from Tom's to hold Sidney's instead. "Oh, my dear," she cooed, sympathetically. "I know you were looking forward to seeing her. Do you think she's set her heart elsewhere for good?"

At this Eliza stepped closer. "I fear it is me she is evading," she piped up. She no longer seemed quite so confident. "Or rather, it is what I have said that has made her avert you all."

Sidney closed his eyes and let out a low groan. "May I ask what you have done now?"

Eliza was fiddling with her nails, unable to meet his eye. "I told her the truth."

"That our engagement is broken?" His heart was pounding so hard it was beginning to drown everything else out.

"Well, perhaps not the _whole_ truth," she said slowly. "Rather, I told her that your intentions lay elsewhere, and that she had won. That . . . that was all."

Sidney slammed his fist on the table, jumping up again. What kind of vague, inconspicuous nonsense was that! "You interfering, scheming - "

"Enough, Sidney!" Mary called out, sharply. Her tone softened, however, as she turned her attentions to Eliza. "Mrs Campion, was it you intention to sound as cryptic as possible, or I do believe you have rather spoilt things. Why did you think it your place to meddle?"

Eliza was always rather wonderful at playing the victim. "How can I be accused of meddling in my own engagement? Is Miss Heywood not the cause of our estrangement?"

Sidney shook his head, trying his hardest to calm down. "No, Eliza," he told her. "You are the cause of mine and Charlotte's estrangement. You are the unwelcome one in all of this confusion."

-

As Charlotte left the inn, she was so wrapped up in the commotion of her own thoughts that she did not see James Stringer waving to her. Dragging herself out of her dreary thoughts, she plastered on what she hoped was a welcoming smile.

"Miss Heywood, what a pleasant surprise to see you here," he greeted. One of the things Charlotte always favoured about James was his warmness and his openness. He could be relied upon to say what he meant, and mean what he said.

"Mr Stringer, how are you?"

"Can't complain, can't complain," he grinned. "We've been given the go-ahead to start construction on a pagoda."

Charlotte beamed at him. "How marvellous! I hope he's using your splendid plans."

"You're too kind, Miss Heywood," James flushed. "Indeed he is."

As James delved into great detail about the improvements he had made on his original sketches, Charlotte caught sight of two figures in close contact over his shoulder. Peering closer, she realised with a heavy heart that it was Sidney and Eliza. There were bags at their feet, and Sidney was fervently saying something to her, their heads bowed together. It made Charlotte feel somewhat queasy, especially as Eliza's last words had begun to ring in her ears again.

"Mr Stringer," Charlotte interrupted, hurriedly. "I hope you don't think me too rude, but I really must be off."

"Oh, of course Miss," he spluttered, caught off-guard. "Have you got a busy morning planned?"

She paused for a moment, her eyes flitting back to Sidney, who she prayed would not see her. "Only sea-bathing really," she answered, distractedly.

James followed her line of sight, and spotted the pair. Without saying a word, he nodded his head, not quite understanding the depth of Charlotte's inner workings, but knowing enough not to pry. "You can count on me to cover for you, Miss Heywood, should questions be asked."

Charlotte gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you, Mr Stringer, you truly are a terrific friend."

With that she made her hasty getaway towards the ocean, in greater need of the icy embrace than she had been minutes before. In her rush to slip away, she had not realised her distinctive flowing locks had already given her away.


	13. a burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sidney seeks out charlotte to tell her something important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you haven't been left waiting too long! the next few chapters should be up shortly, when hopefully all of your questions will be answered!
> 
> enjoy!

There was only one girl in Sanditon who wore her hair down so without care, without concern of others. The ubiquitous Miss Heywood.

Sidney made his excuses to Eliza, bidding her a comfortable journey back to London, before racing after Charlotte's retreating figure. She had always been small, and whilst he thought her stature endearing and sweet, he now found it to be a terrible nuisance, as he lost her amongst the bustling crowds of fishermen and labourers.

Cursing his bad timing, he stomped his foot on the ground. He would have blindly chased after her, if he had not spotted James Stringer watching intently. The foreman quickly looked away once he saw Sidney, though it was too late.

"Say, Mr Stringer, was that Miss Heywood I saw you with a moment ago?" he called out, making his way over.

James swivelled around slowly. Clearly, he had been hoping to avoid a confrontation. "Mr Parker, I didn't know you were back in town."

A deflection, though a poor attempt. "I arrived a couple of days ago," he answered, as politely as he could manage. The two had never managed to be anything more than brief with one another, especially after Tom's trouble with wages and their shared affection for a certain young woman. "Mr Stringer, I am right in believing Miss Heywood to have been here, aren't I? Where did she go? I have . . . something to discuss with her."

"I'm not too sure where she went," James answered, tipping his hat at him, making to leave. "Good day, Mr Parker."

Sidney stepped forward hastily. "It's rather urgent, you see," he pressed on.

James narrowed his eyes at him. "Need I repeat myself, Mr Parker? I don't know where Miss Heywood has gone. Perhaps you'll have better luck shouting her name from the rooftops, the taller the better - "

"I know you're fond of her, Mr Stringer," Sidney interjected, more desperate now. "Miss Heywood is lucky to have a friend in you, to be able to count on your loyalty. Please be assured that I only have her best interests at heart too."

James took a deep breath, clearly weighing up Sidney's words. Would he indeed be a good friend to Charlotte if he concealed her whereabouts from him further, or would it be better to merely let him know and to trust that it was all for the best? He sighed. "Miss Heywood said something about sea-bathing. She didn't say, but I think she wanted to clear her mind."

Sidney broke out into a grin. "Thank you, Mr Stringer." Just as he turned to make his way down to the beach, James's voice stopped him.

"I once planned on asking Miss Heywood to consider marrying me," he admitted, a sudden sadness overwhelming his features. "I knew I'd only be asking her to break my heart, so never did. Didn't want to put that kind of . . . burden onto her. It wasn't her fault I'd grown attached, she was merely showing me a great kindness, a great _friendship_. That night at the ball, she believed you to be nigh on proposing. I told her that I hope you'd prove worthy of her, that you were a lucky man."

Sidney swallowed, thickly. He had known, or rather suspected, of James's infatuation for Charlotte, though hadn't ever examined the true depth of it. Hadn't really thought there to be much cause for it, as it was clear Charlotte didn't feel the same way. "I suppose you wish you had proposed ahead of the Captain, in hindsight."

"Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but no, it wouldn't have changed a thing. She doesn't love me, Mr Parker, not like she loves you. Not that it matters much, but you haven't proven yourself yet, to me I mean."

"I intend on rectifying that, Mr Stringer, don't you worry," Sidney promised, as he headed towards the beach. He smiled at the man, the first true smile the pair had ever exchanged, then sped off into a swift run.

Down on the beach he could not find Charlotte anywhere. For it was still early, and all the workers were in town selling their wares, the upper classes mostly still in bed or just beginning to tuck into their breakfasts, there weren't many people around. Scouring the sands for her, he came up short. Deciding that she might have already ventured in for a swim, he glanced over at the bathing machines. All five of them were parked on the shore, ready and waiting.

Had James sent him on a wild goose chase, giving him a false destination?

Prepared to give up, and wait for her at the inn, a sudden thought struck Sidney; the cove. That was where he would wish to go if too many thoughts were fogging up his head and clouding his judgement.

He made his way to the secluded cove, an area forever, in his belief, synonymous with Charlotte. It was the place she had happened upon him once, when he had given her a nasty fright. It was a moment he remembered with acute embarrassment, then with fondness as he recalled how they had laughed about it in the street days later.

His hunch proved fortuitous, as once he scrambled over a few jagged rocks, he spotted Charlotte amongst the waves. He watched for a short while, as she ducked her head under a few times, clearly embracing the icy cold relief, when a sudden thought struck him; what if she was as he preferred to sea-bathe and completely in the nude. He searched frantically for confirmation on the ground, for where she might have left her clothes. He spotted her dress, and her stays, and lastly her stockings - but that was all. She would still be in her slip, fortunately.

While that made him watching her from a distance slightly less disconcerting, it meant any heart-to-heart he had planned to have would still be inappropriate all the same. He made the decision to leave, to seek her out later when she was fully-clothed, though was caught out before he could slip away.

"Who's there?" she called out, rising forth out of the waves.

Sidney stepped forward, taking off his hat. "It's Sidney Parker, Miss Heywood, I didn't mean to alarm you."

She continued to walk towards him, her frustration had being caught unawares more and more evident as she grew closer. He tried not to look, though the temptation was great. He had seen a glimpse of her as she left the water, her slip moulded to her body revealing a voluptuous figure, the water glistening on her thighs.

He held out her dress to her as a sorry excuse for a peace offering, which she snatched from him angrily. "I came here to get away from you, Mr Parker," she grumbled, pulling her dress on hastily. "And yet here I find you, spying on me - "

"I was doing nothing of the sort, Miss Heywood!" he exclaimed, though his jump to defense probably gave himself away. "I was merely hoping to have a discussion with you."

"Oh, a discussion?" she asked, more accusingly than inquisitive. "How lucky am I that the great Sidney Parker has matters to discuss with me, little old Charlotte Heywood from the farm!"

Her behaviour was bewildering him, for it was as though he had done something wrong. "You're confusing me, have I done something to offend you?"

Charlotte scoffed, shaking her head. "I have heard nothing from you for _months_ ," she told him. "And yet, two weeks before my wedding, here you are, swooping in."

Sidney furrowed his brow. "So you wish to discuss lack of communication? How about the terrible upset you caused Mary when you failed to notify her you had found lodgings elsewhere yesterday?"

"I had just spent the most unpleasant and perplexing carriage ride down with Mrs Campion, the last thing I wanted to was sleep under the same roof as the pair of you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. All manners and conduct one was expected to uphold in polite company was discarded without a moment's notice, in part due to the peculiar and unconventional way in which they were meeting.

"The least you could have done was send Mary reassurance you hadn't been in some dreadful accident! She was up half the night worrying!"

Charlotte sighed. "Oh, you're right, I was selfish," she admitted, then prodded him with her finger. "Clearly you weren't that concerned about my welfare, nobody came looking for me at the inn. Surely your fiance could have told you where I was, she saw me walk in!"

Sidney couldn't help but let out a chuckle, all of a sudden. Just like being at the cove was reminding him of the time she had caught him in the nude, the pair of them yelling at one another was reminiscent of all their shouting matches, something of which they had become quite famous for. "Look at us, Miss Heywood, losing our temper with another. It's just like old times."

Instead of joining in with him, musing over the past with him, Charlotte's face fell. "You're laughing at me," she muttered. "You think this is funny."

She gathered up her things as she began to leave, when he stopped her, standing in front of her, forcing her to look at him. "Miss Heywood, I apologise, I am not laughing at you. I could never laugh at you. I'm here because I have some news to tell you. I - "

"I have news too, Mr Parker," she interrupted, looking down at her feet. She sounded as though she was reading from a novel, reciting old lines of memorised text. "I'm no longer getting married here, in Sanditon. Benjamin decided - _we_ decided, that it will be better to have the wedding at his estate in Cornwall."

Sidney's knit his brow with distress. "You're still going through with it then, this ruse that you love him?"

Charlotte crossed her arms. "How dare you, I do love him!"

Sidney shook his head. "No, I don't believe you do, Miss Heywood."

Feeling as though she was being interrogated, Charlotte began to march back up the beach. He followed her, of course, easily matching her pace. "He'll be here soon to fetch me back to London. In three days I suspect. From London we'll go to Falmouth, and it is there we shall be wed. I shall be glad to start a new life, somewhere far from you and your empty words and false promises, Mr Parker."

At this Sidney froze, wounded. "You can't mean that." He was remembering what James had said, about wanting to propose a while ago, before realising that he'd only be putting Charlotte in a difficult position.

"Can't I?"

Charlotte continued to walk on, only to stop when she noticed Sidney walking in the other direction. Confused, and still buzzing with rage she needed to direct at something, she called after him; "Did you merely seek me out here so that you could shout at me, laugh in my face, then storm off in a huff? My, what an inexplicable man you are, Mr Parker. No wonder I couldn't make head or tails of you last year! You never know quite what you want, or what you mean to do with something when you do get it!"

Before she could continue, she was stunned to see Sidney rushing back to her, and even more stunned when he kissed her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, feverishly. It was unlike their first, last and only kiss they had shared on the hilltop all those months ago, which had been sweet and tender. This was tempestuous, and eager, as though both would cease to exist in that moment if they weren't together.

Just when she was starting to wrap her head around what was happening, he pulled away. Still holding her, close and compassionately, he smiled, bitter-sweetly. "I just wanted to do that, one more time."

"One more time?" Charlotte repeated, before present day came flooding back. She pushed him away, softly, eyes wide. "That . . . what we did . . . that wasn't fair. Not to Eliza, not to - "

"My engagement with Eliza is broken," he told her, calmly.

Charlotte was stunned, dropping her stays and her stockings. "It's broken? How?" she spluttered.

"I ended it, before you begin to pity me," he joked, trying to make light of it, despite suddenly feeling deflated and stale. "Last night. She took it rather graciously, all things considered." He tilted his head to show Charlotte the small welt at the corner of his eyes. "I will say this about Mrs Campion, she has a rather dreadful throw. I believe she had meant to aim for my eye."

"She hit you?"

"No, no, she merely threw the engagement ring at me. I'm rather fortunate that I didn't love her, for the diamond might have been bigger and then there would have been real trouble."

Charlotte reached out and tentatively brushed her fingertip across the wound, her touch making him shiver. She was close to him, too close really, so he took her hand in his and stepped backwards. "I may be unattached now, but you Miss Heywood are not," he reminded her. He glanced up at the sand dunes. "Care to walk with me back to town?"

He had all been aflutter earlier, excited to inform her of the good news. Now, it almost felt like something he was burdening her with. She was getting married, now he wasn't. It should have been cause for celebration, that he was free, but he was just now realising something he had forgone before; she wasn't free. She was still engaged, her wedding weeks away. To end all that now on nothing more than a whim would be devastating to her reputation. She could not promise herself to him when she was already promised to another man, that wasn't the type of girl she was. Morally, he couldn't demand that of her. And now that he was slowly starting to consider that, he knew that it was a long-shot even expecting her to give Benjamin up. Not with commitments having been made, a wedding being planned.

It was much, he suspected, how James Stringer had felt. He could propose and risk get his heart shattered, and lose his friendship with Charlotte once again. His own selfish desires weren't worth hurting one of the only good things he had left.


	14. the beginning of the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are starting become unravelled as charlotte and sidney spend time together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise answers are coming! please be patient with me, i'm typing as fast as i can!
> 
> enjoy!

Sidney and Charlotte could have fit a carriage between them with the amount of space separating them. Charlotte feared what would happen, or rather what she would do, if they were to get too close. The feel of his lips on hers was far too intoxicating for her liking. Instead, she walked far enough out of his reach, though near enough that she could hear him - he appeared to be doing the same, keeping his hands to himself.

"You're being awfully quiet, Miss Heywood," Sidney finally said, as they began to weave through the bustling streets. "Silence is most unlike you."

He was attempting to jest, to make her laugh, something she was grateful for. There was a tightening on her chest, as though her breathing was restricted, and so cherished the sudden burst of laughter as a much needed reprieve.

"My apologies, Mr Parker, I just have so many questions and don't know quite where it is . . . appropriate to start," she told him, choosing her words carefully.

"Well, how about you start, and if you ask me something too salacious of suggestive, I shall keep my mouth shut, deal?"

She laughed again. "Deal." Taking a deep breath, she wondered where to start. "I saw you with Mrs Campion this morning, and the pair of you seemed . . . close."

Sidney glanced at her, his penny-sized bruise now shining gloriously purple. "Ah, so that's why you made your quick getaway? Well, I had written to Mrs Campion last week and asked her to come and see me in Sanditon as soon as was convenient. I made it clear it was urgent, and that I had something of great import to tell her - by the time she had arrived she had guessed what it was. After she had . . . um . . . "

"Blown her top?"

Sidney snorted. "Yes, that's one way of putting it," he grinned. "After . . . _that_ . . . Tom and Mary permitted her to stay the night. I was merely bidding her goodbye this morning, trying to be a decent man."

Charlotte began to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve, suddenly feeling rather irrational, and quite immature for having overreacted so enormously after first arriving. "Oh," she muttered. "I must admit I believed Mrs Campion to be in town for wedding preparations, so I didn't want to be in the way."

"After what she said to you in the carriage?"

Charlotte's eyes widened. "You know what she said?"

"Not in any great detail," he assured her. "Only that you had won. What did she mean by that?"

"It is not I who is asking the questions?" she quickly reminded him, certainly not willing to rehash all that was said between Eliza and her. Not after what had just occurred on the cove.

Sidney smiled at her, softly. "You're right, I'm sorry, please proceed."

Charlotte wondered quite how much Sidney was willing to reveal, and decided the only way to know was just to keep asking away. "Why now? Why keep up the engagement for so long only to end it now? Had she done something? What about the money you need to help Tom? What - "

Sidney stopped in the street, reaching out to place a hand on her forearm. His touch was gentle and served it's purpose in getting her to calm down, though he removed his hand quickly when he remembered he was supposed to be on his best behaviour. "Breathe," he told her, slowly. He was staring down at her intently, his soulful, rich brown eyes making her feel more wobbly than reassured. "In truth, I received a letter about a week ago. A letter, from your Lady Worcester."

He began walking, though at a slower pace, Charlotte behind him rendered bewildered by Sidney's news. "A letter? From Susan?" she spluttered.

He nodded. "I couldn't quite believe it myself when it arrived. I was terrified to open it in case she was scorning me for something horrid I'd done." Here Charlotte would have usually laughed, but she was far too stunned to do anything but gawk up at him, trundling along behind him. "She wrote to tell me that I was making a hideous mistake in marrying Mrs Campion, and that I'd only grow to regret it when I was older. Or rather, _'as time passes and your rakish good looks fade, there will only be one constant; the ball and chain at your side that sounds an awful lot like wicked Mrs Campion'_."

"Oh heavens, she didn't say that, did she?" Charlotte felt rather mortified, embarrassed that her friend would go to such lengths.

Sidney, on the other hand, seemed rather pleased. "I quite liked it," he told her, with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know best that Lady Worcester isn't one for holding back. In fact, she rather put me in my place. It was well-deserved, mind, and I certainly needed the talking to."

"Do I want to know what else she said?" Charlotte asked, warily.

"I'll maybe show it to you, one day," Sidney replied. "But for now, all I shall tell you is that she made me reflect on some things, stopped me feeling quite so pathetic. And, it included a down payment."

"A down payment?"

"Yes, enough that Tom has already been able to pay back Mrs Campion for all she gave him to begin repair works. She was due to give him more money, after we were wed, though Lady Worcester has insured that Tom can have the amount, in full, if a few conditions were met."

Charlotte's head was spinning. "Conditions? How so?"

Before Sidney could divulge more juicy tidbits of information, the door to Trafalgar Place swung open. Three boisterous children came running out, shrieking Charlotte's name at the top of their lungs. In the doorway stood Mary, who looked ever-so delighted to see her dear friend again.

-

"I cannot apologise enough, Mary, for my poor manners yesterday," Charlotte as she settled down for tea.

"Oh, it's all forgotten now dear," she dismissed, kindly pouring Charlotte a cup of earl grey.

Despite Mary's generosity and warmth, she still felt a twinge of remorse. "No, it was wretched of me to make you worry," she pressed on, still wracked with guilt - and not just over miscommunication with Mary. She was all too aware of Sidney at her side, barely a hairsbreadth away. He was clearly trying his best not to behave untoward to her any more after their slip-up at the cove, though with every accidental brush of the sleeve or locked glance the tension between them would crackle like electricity and remind them of their silly mistake.

And mistake it was, for she was engaged to another man, and had no business kissing newly unattached men in private. No matter how good-looking they were, or how charming they were, or how much she truly cared and loved -

Snapping her attention back to the teacup in her hand, she tentatively took a sip.

"We understand why you were so keen on avoiding here, Charlotte, and don't hold you in contempt," Mary continued, with a knowing glance at Sidney. "I am pleased to say that the whole . . . charade is now safely put behind us, won't you agree Sidney?"

He nodded, keenly. "Well and truly behind us, Mary."

"Now, whilst one wedding may have gone awry, I hope yours is still smooth-sailing?" Charlotte hesitated a touch too long. "No, don't tell me I have to pack both of my nice gowns?" Mary meant it as a light-hearted jest, though reached out to grasp her hand for support, just in case.

"Everything is fine, Mary, don't pack your dresses away just yet," Charlotte amended, squeezing her hand in return. "There's just been a slight hiccup, that's all. A minor hitch, if you could even call it that. Benjamin wrote to me this morning asking that we change the venue."

Mary cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not sure what we have here that's grander than the ballrooms?"

Charlotte felt her heart sink even lower; she hadn't even considered letting Tom and the Parkers know that if they weren't to be married there, it means losing a hefty chunk of their business for the Spring. "Oh, Mary, no, I'm sorry," she said, her head in her hands. "Benjamin wants to get married in his home in . . . in Cornwall."

In the blink of an eye, Mary expression faltered, her positivity chipped. Then, she smiled back at Charlotte as if nothing was wrong. It somehow made her feel ten times worse. "No worry, my dear, as long as you're happy with the change."

Charlotte was fed up trying to pretend she was keeping everything together. "That's the thing, you see - "

The butler appeared, with the morning post on a tray. Amongst what appeared to be bank notices, invoices and receipts, was am invitation, impressive in it's suave style, though very much garish for Charlotte's taste.

It caught Mary's eye too, as she picked it out first. What began as mild curiosity quickly turned into sudden bewilderment, as she frowned up at Charlotte. "It's your wedding invitation," she told her, holding it out for her to take.

"These were sent out a few months ago," Charlotte explained, turning the card over and over, trying to discern why it had only just arrived. "Have you not already received one?"

"Of course dear, it's pride of place on our mantelpiece," Mary replied, quizzical.

"May I?" Sidney asked, gesturing to the invitation.

Somewhat sheepishly, Charlotte handed it over, very aware that he had been left off of the guest list. He raked his eyes over it, his jaw clenched. Did it truly wound him to see some tangible evidence of her engagement to another man? She tried not to look too long, for she couldn't bear to see his expression. It was already too difficult sitting next to him as the discussed her wedding plans.

"There, that's why this one is different," Sidney said, setting the invitation down on the middle of the table, pointing at something on the middle. "The location. It says Falmouth Hall."

As he said it out loud, it suddenly clicked in everybody's heads. "But you said he only asked this morning, Charlotte?" Mary gasped. "How could it be here now, not a few hours later?"

Charlotte felt queasy. "He had never intended on waiting for my opinion," she muttered.

At this rate, things would have been simpler to just call the whole wedding off.


	15. plain and simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh, if only things could be plain and simple for our dear sidney and charlotte!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as i'm coming to the end, i'm flooded by ideas for new sidlotte stories. would you, my lovely readers, be more interested in a regency setting, or a more modern one? i have a couple of ideas for some modern stories that i think you may like, but want to know what people are keen on reading!
> 
> anyway, please enjoy!

Charlotte swiftly had her belongings brought over from the inn to Trafalgar Place, after a somewhat tumultuous morning tea with Mary.

After discovering Benjamin's deception - though she felt nasty calling it that when she believed it to be more of a poorly executed arrangement - she was stunned at her steely reaction. Whilst Mary couldn't quite wrap her head around Benjamin's ruse, and Sidney made his outrage plain and simple, Charlotte instead took a calmer, more harmonious resolve, taking them all by surprise.

Mary tried to see things from Charlotte's point of view, though was still bewildered at the gall of the situation, however Sidney tossed around some less forgiving accusations. Even going so far as to suggest Benjamin had no intention of ever being wed in Sanditon, Charlotte asked him to refrain from speaking any more on the subject. She was struggling to understand her fiance's intentions, and to have Sidney so strongly opposed to him was not helping matters.

He relented, and apologised, though was clearly still afflicted by anger towards the other man, though Charlotte suspected this had less to do with invitations and more to do with her.

Mary had changed the subject with as much grace as she could muster, reminding Charlotte she was more than welcome to dine with them that night. Accepting gladly, Charlotte was then detained by the children for much of the afternoon, playing amongst the sand dunes.

In her absence, Sidney was keen to discuss what was weighing on his mind with Mary, who also appeared to be in some distress too.

"You must admit his devious behaviour is cause for concern," he began, as the pair strolled through town.

Mary, never one to dwell on the negative, hummed in agreement. "It is most curious," she nodded. "But Charlotte doesn't seem to be troubled by it, and she knows him more than I."

"Of course she's troubled by it, Mary, she's just too damn polite to say," he muttered, grounding his walking stick into the dirt with repressed anger. "Did you see her face when she saw the change of location? He had clearly promised her one thing, then done the complete opposite. She won't say it out loud, but I know she's having doubts about this whole wedding business."

" _'Wedding business?'_ My dear, she is engaged and would be ill-advised to call it off all in the name of a hasty invitation." Mary then took a softer approach, lowering her voice in case of pricked ears. "Are you certain this isn't mere wishful thinking, Sidney?"

Sidney grit his teeth, trying to be more patient with his sister-in-law. "Who Charlotte - Miss Heywood - is with you is a different person to who she is with me," he told her, catching himself. He was trying to reason with her, not plead. "I can see her, truly, and see past the facade she's put up for everyone else. She's . . . wary of him, dare I say scared, subconsciously. She's not going to stop this wedding on her own accord."

Mary, not a woman known to mince her words, took her time to reply. "Sidney, I can only imagine the depth of your feeling for her, but you must consider a different perspective. Charlotte is a young girl, from a more humble upbringing. Could this hesitation you are sensing merely be her trepidation at marrying somebody so far removed from what she has always known? That her wariness is not about Captain Rutherford himself, but the prospect as a whole of being with a man?"

Sidney blanched at the thought of Charlotte _with_ another man, in all that carnal duties demanded. Looping her arm through his, Mary shook her head. "I didn't mean it like that," she sighed. "I merely meant Charlotte is fiercely independent, it is what we both admire in her. She could be worrying that her self-sufficiency could be taken from her, as it with most women in matrimony. Is that the sort of thing you think Captain Rutherford capable of? You went to school with him, did you not?"

Wracking his brain for memories of the Captain, Sidney came up rather short. "In truth I remember very little about him," he admitted. "Benjamin was below me in school, and never much made an impression. He was in the library an awful lot."

This seemed to be the answer Mary was searching for. "See, not a naturally dominant fellow after all, and he and Charlotte have a common interest. A quiet, bookish man is just the sort we should wish for her, if she cannot have you."

"But Mary, I am uncommitted, at liberty to seek an engagement with Miss Heywood," he reminded her, desperation unwillingly seeping into his every vowel.

"But she is not, Sidney. No matter how great your love may be, Charlotte is not the sort of girl to disregard her promises. She won't leave a good man now."

"There is still time - "

"The wedding is in two weeks," she told him, firm but gentle. "It breaks my heart, but it is a lost cause."

-

By some stroke of good luck or misfortune, it was hard to decipher, Tom and Mary were detained at dinner by prior commitments, including the children, leaving Charlotte and Sidney to dine alone.

They had not been alone since that morning, when they had both given into temptation; Charlotte was determined not to repeat the mistake twice.

Blindsided by the Parker's departure, Sidney and Charlotte were frozen in momentary awkwardness, before moving from the hallway and into the dining room. He pulled out her chair for her, before sitting across from her at the table. The space between them was altogether too distant yet too close at once. It was not helping her muddled mind.

"You look wonderful, Miss Heywood," he complimented, politely. "What a pretty gown."

She was wearing a rather lovely lavender coloured muslin dress, which had been a lot simpler to choose than whatever to do with her hair. She had chosen to wear it up, though now feared as though Sidney might misconstrue the meaning of all her effort; it had been for her, and her alone. Though, his flattery was much appreciated. "Thank you, Mr Parker," she replied, somewhat stiffly. "It was a gift, from the Duke of Berry."

Sidney broke out into a wide grin. "You must tell me your secret," he teased, breaking the tension. "As to how you manage to make all these influential people fall at your feet."

She let out a soft chuckle, bringing the glass of wine to her lips. "I believe it is one of the only perks of my lack of any kind of societal education," she told him. "I know who absolutely nobody is, and it is only after I have spoke quite exactly what is on my mind that they reveal themselves to me. I yield more foes from it than you'd think, so the tactic is rather hit and miss."

Sidney laughed, heartily. "It is your honesty they find refreshing. At least, that is what drew me to you."

Charlotte cocked her eyebrow at him. "My honesty? Interesting, for I thought it was that very same honesty you scolded, on multiple occasions?"

"I was a pig-headed brute when we first met, and have since learned to embrace a woman's candor," he assured her, with a smile that was far too tantalizing for Charlotte to take. The butlers bringing in their dinner was a welcome distraction.

Over their roast duck and medley of seasonal spring vegetables, they discussed much of her trip to France, of Georgiana's newfound contentment, and of the Parker children's unbelievable growth in such a short time. Conversation was complaisant, but constricted, a clear topic they were avoiding; her upcoming nuptials.

It was only when they were tucking into dessert - a delicious plum pudding - that Charlotte could not hold her tongue any longer. Setting her spoon down with a clatter, she heaved a big sigh, catching Sidney's attention. "Forgive my forwardness, Mr Parker, but I am at a wit's end wanting to know what Susan's conditions were."

"Your forwardness?" he repeated, amused. "Miss Heywood, it has been evident you have been sitting on that question all day."

Knitting her brow, she frowned at him. "Then why keep me in suspense! Please, I must know."

Enjoying having the upper hand, Sidney kept Charlotte waiting a little longer. Instead, in utter silence, he continued to finish his plate of plum pudding, even going so far as to lick his spoon clean, an image that sent her imagination haywire. Fixated on his tongue, and all that it implied, for far too long, she hoped that her rising blush did not give her away.

It was only when the plates were cleared did he begin to answer her question, or, at the least, entertain the notion. "Lady Worcester is a close confidant of yours, is she not?"

"Besides Georgiana, she is my dearest friend," Charlotte replied, growing impatient.

"Answer me this and I will answer your question; why did she wait until now to choose to invest in Sandtion. Why not, say last summer?"

They both knew what he was implying; why didn't she save him the torment of an engagement to Eliza back then?

"I'm certain you'll have heard, but Lord Worcester died in early March," she explained, gently. "He did not care much for Susan, nor her happiness. He would not have permitted her to invest such a large sum of money in Sanditon at the time, when the venture did not seem, if you'll pardon me, fortuitous. She had the title, and the freedom to roam, but had no control over her own purse, at least not until he passed on. As they had no children, she was left with his entire properties and savings to do with as she pleases, which, it seems, to be in seaside resorts."

"Ah," was all Sidney could reply with. So it was not that Lady Susan did not like him, or think him a good match for Charlotte, it was more that she did not have the means to be donating the funds when they most needed it.

Charlotte leant forward. "What were her conditions, Mr Parker?"

He swallowed thickly; this was it. "To follow my heart."

"Follow your heart? What a strange request." She did not quite understand. How could Lady Susan even know that he had kept up his deal of the bargain with such a vague and open-ended requisition. Unless . . . 

"It is why I ended my engagement with Mrs Campion," he explained, softly. "I did not love her, not as I love you. To follow my heart would not be a bitter marriage with a resentful past flame, but a long and happy life spent with you. And so, to accept Lady Worcester's money meant only one thing; to marry you, my dear Charlotte."

Charlotte's head was suddenly dizzy, and she felt faint. Leaning back in her chair, all her table manners abandoned in seek of a reprieve.

Realising she wasn't coping well with his revelation, Sidney rushed to her side. Holding a handkerchief to her head, as he had seen young ladies so often do, he wasn't expecting her to swat it away so rashly. She was clearly struggling to breathe, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "How can I help?" he asked, wrought with trepidation. She hadn't said anything yet, and that wasn't boding well.

"You can step away from my fiance for a start," came a deep voice from the doorway. They both looked up and found Benjamin, glaring down at them with horror. It was a rather compromising position the pair were in, something they realised too late. Charlotte bound up from her chair, eyes wide.

"It isn't what it looks like, Benjamin, I swear," she spluttered, alarmingly close to tears.

Benjamin, on the other hand, was as cold and unforgiving as ice. "How long have you too been carrying out this . . . this torrid affair?" he demanded, coarsely. He screwed his eyes shut, seething. "Actually, I'd rather not know. You two deserve each other."

He then left, and it completely shattered Sidney's heart to watch as Charlotte ran after him.


	16. sense and sensibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlotte is given an ultimatum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not long left!
> 
> also, thank you everybody for supporting me in the comments. i do believe everybody is entitled to their opinion, but ultimately this is a work of fiction, and it's mine; i've planned how this was going to end from the moment i started writing it. if people don't like how it's unfolding, then i implore them to find something else more suited to their tastes to read instead of taking out their frustrations on other readers. it isn't fair and it isn't nice.
> 
> now, please enjoy this chapter!

Charlotte's head was in such a state she was barely aware of where she was walking. She could just see Benjamin, her fiance - she kept repeating those words over and over, her _fiance_ \- and everything else was blurry.

He was upset, she had made him upset. He believed her to be conducting an affair behind his back; was she? Is that what she had found herself entangled with, her and Sidney too friendly, too close, for it to be appropriate? She wanted to yell, wanted to scream until her lungs were emptied of air, that she didn't know what she was doing. That she didn't know what was happening to her.

In France, when Benjamin had been courting her and Sidney was back in London engaged to somebody else, everything on the surface seemed easy; it felt easy. She knew her heart still remained with Sidney, but also knew that it was irresponsible, that no good would come of her harbouring feelings for a man already spoken for. She _knew_ what to do; to seek happiness outside of Sanditon, outside of Sidney. She hadn't expected to find another man, but it had been a welcome surprise, especially when he confessed his love to her. She saw a possibility of a decent life, _a happy life_ , one she was in complete control of. It had been the whole reason she had proposed in the first place, to further cement her control.

Now, everything was slipping out of her fingers. Her future was murky, unfathomable, her past weighted with emotions she couldn't place or name. Her present, worst of all, was simply happening to her. She seemed to have no say anymore, no jurisdiction over her own life. Men were dictating how she felt, how she moved and how she spoke. Sidney was toying with her head, with her heart, that was still ever so fragile. Benjamin was tugging on her sensibilities, demanding her head rule over her sense.

It was suffocating.

She wanted, just for a moment, to choose her own fate.

Which was how she found herself following Benjamin back to the inn. With him, she knew where she was headed. She was to become a Viscountess, soon-to-be Countess, of a large estate in Cornwall, where she would never want for anything ever again. Her family would be taken care of, her children guaranteed a comfortable life. And Benjamin loved her, that much she was certain of. With Sidney nothing was certain. He had promised her a proposal once before, and had to go back on his word when his family needed money. As much as she loved Tom, he wasn't the most sensible of men. Sidney's help was sure to be needed again - how could a farmer's daughter be of any use?

No, a future with Benjamin was the only reasonable one. The only one that made sense.

As Benjamin packed up his belongings, Charlotte entered his room, pleading with him to listen. "I promise you, no affair was unfolding," she began, her voice hoarse. "It is not as it seems."

"No?" he barked, turning on her. "Look me in the eyes and tell me nothing happened with you and Mr Parker. You are honest, Charlotte, I'll believe the words that come out of your lips."

She couldn't lie to him, couldn't tell him that _nothing_ had happened, when in truth a great many things had happened. How to explain it to him without wounding him further? It was an impossible feat. "I . . . I cannot," she muttered, slumping her shoulders with defeat. "Mr Parker made it clear that he wished for me to leave you and . . . and to go to his side. He offered me marriage."

"Marriage!" Benjamin exclaimed, throwing a pair of breeches down with anger. "Charlotte, please tell me you have not entertained this preposterous proposal? You haven't . . . dear God, you haven't accepted have you?"

"No! I wouldn't, I couldn't!" she spluttered, shaking her head. "I made a vow to you, a vow I can't just throw away on a whim! Benjamin, please, I haven't done anything to make Sidney think this was a two-sided decision." Hadn't she? She had kissed back, after all.

"He's a rogue, Charlotte," he implored. "You can't trust him. Were you aware that he's been seen frequenting Mrs Harries's establishment, the brothel? Even whilst engaged to Mrs Campion! He's been causing trouble in the gentlemen's clubs too, gambling and picking fights. Is that the sort of man you could rely upon, that you wish to have a future with?"

Screwing her eyes shut, tears beginning to spill. She felt silly, felt foolish. "No," she whispered.

Benjamin couldn't look at her. He was seething, steam practically pouring from his ears. "I have no other choice. A duel is the only way to resolve - "

"You can't!" Charlotte cried, rushing to him. She pulled on his arm, taking his hand in hers. She had read about duels, heard whispers of them at balls. They were illegal, and highly dangerous. If a duel is foiled by the law, then all participants can expect execution, or imprisonment at best. Even if one of them won, they weren't safe. It was an unimaginable and gut-wrenching solution. "Benjamin, you'll kill him. Or he'll kill you. Please, you mustn't."

"It's a matter of honour," Benjamin muttered, shrugging out of her touch. He turned his back on her, hanging his head low.

Not accepting his response, she stepped in front of him, and took her face in her hands. She was hopelessly desperate. "I won't see him again," she told him, tears in her eyes as she made her deal. "I'll never come back to Sanditon. We'll be married, as soon as you like, and we can start our life together. You can't duel him, Benjamin. _Please._ "

Looking down at her, he reached out to caress her cheek, as he kissed her. It was coarse and impulsive, nothing like Sidney's passionate and wistful kisses. "Will you truly do that for me, my love?" Charlotte nodded, slowly, tears slipping down her face. "Then we'll leave tonight."

What had she agreed to?

-

Sidney was in absolute horror.

After scolding the footmen for allowing Benjamin to enter the house unannounced, he tried to trail after them, only to be held back by two surly guardsmen. He immediately identified them, knowing them to be in Benjamin's employ. They wouldn't permit him to enter the inn, nor would they inform Charlotte he was outside.

Pacing up and down in the street, and earning a bloody lip in the process of trying to sneak in, he decided to head back to Trafalgar Place and wait them out. He'd catch them later, ask Mary for advice.

A half hour later, he'd downed two glasses of scotch, and was starting to lose faith. Charlotte had left him to soothe Benjamin. She hadn't responded to his proposal, had in fact seemed quite troubled by it. That did not bode well for a favourable answer. To dull his worries, he consumed another scotch, before moving onto the whisky.

He had made quite a spectacular dent in the liquor cabinet when his brother and sister-in-law returned later that evening. Mary ushered the children up to bed after spotting the cut on Sidney's lip and the blood on his collar.

"What in heaven's name happened to you, Sidney?" Tom exclaimed, furrowing his brow.

"Captain Rutherford," he replied, bitterly.

"Charlotte's beau?" Tom queried. "Why were the pair of you in a brawl?"

"Where's Charlotte?" Mary suddenly demanded, glancing around the room.

Sidney resisted the urge to hurl the glass in his hand across the room. "Captain Rutherford interrupted our dinner, where I had made a proposal of marriage to Miss Heywood. He saw us, assumed rightly that something was threatening his engagement, and took off." He gritted his teeth, not wanting to continue. "Miss Heywood went with him, to fix things. His men kept me from seeing her."

Mary knelt down at his side, trying to comfort him. It was the last thing he wanted, to be pitied.

"Perhaps it's for the best, Sidney," she said, softly. "It wasn't fair of you to spring a proposal on an engaged woman."

"She doesn't love him!" he exclaimed, surprising himself by starting to cry. He was crying out of frustration, out of heartache, out of misery. He had tried his hardest, but didn't know what else to do so that Charlotte would return to him.

"You utter fool," Tom muttered, shaking his head. "Captain Rutherford is a distinguished man of great influence. I was relying upon Charlotte to show him Sanditon's beauty, it's many pleasures. By offending him you could have ruined our reputation. We may never convince him to take up residence in the town now."

Sidney couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Getting up, he marched towards Tom slowly, menacingly. "Everything I have done in the last year has been for you. All the loans, all the trips, all the invitations. I have pleaded your case in front of all the gentry in London, in front of all the banks, until I was blue in the face. I was almost married to a woman I utterly despise simply so she would pay your debts. I have sacrificed everything for you!" His voice was raised now, causing Tom to flinch. "I gave up Charlotte, for you! You cannot ask me to do any more for you, not when I have broken my heart at your expense."

"My dear brother, Sidney, I think you'll find that you did indeed love Eliza, that - "

"Over ten years ago, yes! Now, my heart belongs to Charlotte, a girl you forced me to let go. We would have been married by now if you hadn't of demanded more from me than any acceptable brother would. I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you!"

While it didn't ease his pain, it felt somewhat good to be able to tell Tom that it was his fault. Perhaps not all of it, but certainly a large chunk.

Tom looked to Mary for guidance, but saw only agreement in Sidney's accusation. This filled him with immense guilt he was unable to put into words. "I . . . I can't . . . Sidney, forgive me - "

"It is too late, Tom. She has found another, and my heart . . . it's breaking."

Sidney slouched back into his seat, sobbing wholeheartedly now. Looking at her brother-in-law, Mary's heart broke with his. She had tried to play devil's advocate, to allow him to reason with his emotions, to be content in what was. However, she knew that wasn't enough. That if Sidney left things now, resigned himself to how the night had ended here, then he would regret it forever, and she would never forgive herself.

"Dry your eyes my dear," she told him, suddenly. "You are to go back to the inn, and keep trying. Throw pebbles at the windows until somebody answers. Call out her name. Persevere until you see her. You can't give up, not yet."

Sidney looked at her, amidst his tears, and saw a woman of complete seriousness. She was encouraging him to go after Charlotte, to not let Benjamin win by default. Bolstering his courage, he rose out of his seat. "I'll go," he decided, wearily. Bolstering his courage, he rose out of his seat. More firmly, he said; "I'll get her back."

-

Charlotte found herself sat beside Benjamin in his carriage, riding through town as darkness crept in. They were headed back to London, and then on to Falmouth. They were to be married by the end of the week, and she was trying to stay positive about it. Trying to convince herself that she was making the right choice.

Unbeknownst to her, Sidney was racing after their carriage, determined to reach her. If he wasn't on foot, if hadn't have been pumped full of alcohol, if the carriage hadn't have been rattling away, he perhaps would have caught them up.

Instead, he lost her. To the open road, to London, to Benjamin.


	17. an austen wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a wedding is taking place, but who's the groom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have loved writing this story so much, i cannot apologise for the long leave of absence i took from it. i hope i've made up for it! thank you, all you lovely readers, for being so supportive and brilliant, it really does make my morning to wake up and read the fantastic comments you all leave!
> 
> hope everybody is staying safe x

"Are you sure you have nothing to tell me, Charlotte?"

Charlotte was perched in front of an ornate mirror, looking back at her reflection though not quite recognising herself. She was wearing a wedding dress, an overly extravagant silver tissue creation, embroidered with shells. She felt like an ornament in it, something to be set out on display and gawped at. Her mother and sisters had gasped when they'd first seen her in it, never having seen something so fancy.

Her hair was the worst; pinned up, tightly, with ringlets framing her face. It was supposedly how Princess Charlotte had worn her hair at her wedding.

"If there's something you feel as though you can't tell me, as to why this wedding is being hurried along, I won't make any judgements," her mother pressed on. "If there's . . . a baby on the way, I can help - "

"Mama, it's nothing like that," she interjected hastily, shaking her head. "It's . . . it's nothing, truly."

Her mother seemed complacent, though sneaked a cursory glance at her daughter's belly, looking for a telltale bump. "Sorry dear, I know you're the sensible sort."

Charlotte took a deep breath, suddenly finding it rather difficult to breathe in her constricting corset. "Did you feel like this, mama? On your wedding day."

"How are you feeling Lottie?"

"Nervous. Nauseous."

Her mother gave her a gentle smile. "No, but I had known your father my whole life. We always knew we'd be married. The circumstances were different."

That hadn't been the comforting answer Charlotte was seeking.

A knock at the door made her jump a little - she had been on edge all morning. Turning around, she was surprised to see Benjamin at the door. Frowning, she tried to cover herself, a poor attempt. "Isn't it bad luck for you to see me before the ceremony?" she exclaimed.

Permitting himself entry, Benjamin laughed off her concerns. "Superstitious nonsense," he dismissed. He had a velvet box in his hands, the size of a postcard. "I have a wedding gift for you. Would you care to see it? I want you to wear it."

Charlotte nodded. She hoped he hadn't gone too much trouble, especially as his family had paid for the dress she was sat in. However, as he opened the box she saw a diamond necklace, glittering in the morning light. The sun was desperately trying to peek through the dismal covering of clouds, though was having no luck.

"Do you like it?"

She was at a loss for words. "I . . . my, it's very . . . big, isn't it?"

"Charlotte dear, what do you say?" her mother prompted.

"Oh, thank you Benjamin, it's . . . it's lovely," she stumbled. Fortunately he mistook her hesitation as awe. Pleased with himself, he proceeded to place it around her neck. She looked at it in the mirror as he clasped it. It was gaudy and garish, not to her tastes at all. His breath on her neck made her squirm in her seat.

"You look beautiful, my love," he said to her, meeting her gaze in the mirror. Kissing her head, he began to walk towards the door. "I'll see you in the church."

As he left, she let out a deep breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in.

The ride to the church wasn't nearly long enough. Charlotte was sat beside her father, who seemed almost as anxious as she was. When they arrived, he helped her out of the carriage, gracefully. She looped her arm through his, the pair taking a second before stepping inside.

"Are you certain about this, my dear?" he asked, suddenly so sombre that Charlotte could have broken down right there. She wanted to tell him she was wracked with doubts, that she didn't love him, but could hear everybody inside the church, could hear the organ begin to play, and knew that she'd be selfish to run now.

"I'm ready, papa." As ready as she would ever be.

Inside the church, the divide between the aristocracy and Charlotte's more modest guests was striking. Walking down the aisle, she caught sight of Georgiana sat beside Esther and Babington. They smiled at her, though she couldn't help but feel as though they were almost forcing themselves to look pleased. The Parkers too, all squeezed into one row, sans a certain Parker brother.

She spotted Lady Susan, who above them all appeared disappointed in her.

Or, was it simply Charlotte's guilty conscience seeking validation?

Her family, ever rowdy, ever enormous, had taken up multiple rows. The younger ones were being rather well-behaved, purposefully sat in-between the elder siblings. Their eyes lit up when they saw her, looking more elegant then they had ever seen her before. Her mother even had tears in her eyes.

When Charlotte reached Benjamin, she wasn't quite ready to let go of her father. He kissed her on both cheeks, and gave her a warm smile. The priest began his sermon, as Benjamin took her hand. Her heart was hammering so fiercely in her chest, she could barely make out the priest's words.

" - If any man or woman could show just cause as to why they cannot be joined together, let them now speak or forever hold their peace."

A tense moment in any wedding, Charlotte and a handful of her guest suddenly found themselves glancing to the doors with trepidation. They waited. And waited. _And waited._

Nothing.

Charlotte forced herself to look back at Benjamin, though the overwhelming discontent was overwhelming. She realised, with a sickening feeling, she had wanted Sidney to burst through the doors, declaring his undying love for her and whisking her away. Yet, he had not shown, and here the wedding was continuing on, until Charlotte felt the ring being slid onto her finger.

"With this ring I thee wed," he began, loudly. "I offer you my hand, and my heart as I know they will be safe with you. All that I am I give to you and all that I have I share with you."

Now her turn. She took the ring from the cushion, and with trembling hands she pushed it onto Benjamin's finger. "With this . . . this ring I thee wed. I offer you my heart - "

"Hand," the priest corrected.

"Hand, sorry," she mumbled. A slight ripple of laughter echoed about the church, as people mistook Charlotte's fumbling uneasiness for the jitters of a young bride. "I offer you my hand, and my heart as I know . . . I know they will be . . . um, - "

"Safe."

"Yes, safe. Safe with you. All that I am I . . . I give to you and all that I have I take - "

"Share." This time it was Benjamin. Through his smile she could sense his irritation. It didn't do anything to reassure her.

"Sorry, share with you."

Now the part they were all waiting for with baited breath. "Do you, Benjamin Eustace Benedict Rutherford, take Charlotte Rose Heywood to be your lawful wedded wife? Will you love, comfort, honor and protect her; forsaking all others to be faithful to her until death do you apart?"

"I do."

Charlotte wanted to run for the hills, but was frozen on the spot.

"Do you, Charlotte Rose Heywood, take Benjamin Eustace Benedict Rutherford to be your lawful wedded wife? Will you love, comfort, honor and protect her; forsaking all others to be faithful to her until death do you apart?"

She hesitated, gaping at the priest, then at her intended. They were moments away from being pronounced man and wife, and the thought terrified her. She let go of Benjamin's hands, stepping backwards. "I . . . I, uh," she stammered. She couldn't say the words she was supposed to. She couldn't bring herself to say the right thing.

Just when people began to whisper about her, the doors flung open. In ran Sidney Parker,put of breath and late. "You can't marry him!" he cried out, his voice hoarse.

The room erupted into gasps of horror, people muttering wildly amongst each other. The Rutherford's guests were horrified, the Heywood's guests enthralled.

Benjamin was beetroot with rage. "What on earth are you - ?"

"You deserve better, Charlotte," Sidney continued, clutching his side as he tried to regain his breath.

She was in floods of tears now, brimming with shock, relief, and fear. "I suppose that's you, then?"

He broke out into a grin, making her heart burst with love for the man. "Never short of assumptions are you, Miss Heywood." She could have ran into his arms then.

"It's Mrs Rutherford now!" Benjamin spat, making her flinch.

Sidney's expression dropped, as he stood up straighter, eyes wild. "Am I . . . am I too late?"

"Actually, we hadn't quite finished," the priest pointed out, amidst his utter bewilderment. This was the first wedding crasher he'd ever faced, and he was unsure of the etiquette. "Nobody is wed, not yet."

Storming down the aisle in a fit of anger, Benjamin threw the first punch at Sidney. He caught him right in the face, the piercing _crack!_ undetermined whether it was Benjamin's knuckles, or Sidney's nose. Never one to shy away from a fight, Sidney retaliated, aiming for Benjamin's stomach. The pair were then embroiled in a vicious scrap that took them out of the church.

Morbidly fascinated by the unexpected outburst, the guests followed them eagerly. Charlotte pushed through the throng to stand on the fringe of the fight, yelling at the top of her lungs for the two men to cease immediately. When her pleas fell on deaf ears, she threw herself in-between them, finding herself inches away from Benjamin's fist. He almost hit her, before he stopped himself in time.

"If you know what's good for you Charlotte you'll get out the way!" he demanded. "He's earned every strike that's coming for him."

"Oh, stop being so ridiculous," she hissed at him. She turned her back on him, and caressed Sidney's face, examining his bloody cuts and scrapes. His nose was intact - so it had been Benjamin's knuckles that had been broken. Good. Served him right.

Sidney looked down at her, and through all the bruises he managed to smile so beautifully at her, as though she was an angel sent to protect him.

"Why are you here?" she asked him, gently.

"I wanted you to know what kind of man you were marrying," he told her.

"Could you not have informed me a few weeks ago? Yesterday, even?"

He shook his head. "As much as I adore the dramatics, I only discovered this all last evening. I've been riding all morning to reach you in time."

"Found what out?"

Sidney regained his breath, stumbling slightly on his feet, his exhaustion evident. "Benjamin here had been keeping close tabs on you, for a long time now. He's been intercepting all of your letters from the moment you'd met, been paying people to get to them before they were sent and delivered."

Charlotte could have been sick, there and then. "He's been what?"

"This includes all your letters to home, asking for advice on your engagement. And letters to Mary asking after me. Nobody was receiving them, so nobody truly knew what you were thinking or feeling."

"All of them?"

" _All_ of them," he nodded. "Even the letter Lady Worcester had sent a few weeks ago, the one with the down payment, when she had instructed me to follow my heart."

Benjamin, who was now as white as a sheet, rushed forward at this apparent flaw in Sidney's reasoning. "Lies! If I was supposedly preventing letters from reaching people, how did you get that one? Surely that is the single letter I should have been most afraid of?"

Prepared for Benjamin's objections, Sidney narrowed his eyes at him. "This is where you slipped up, it seems. Lady Worcester sent two letters, for she believed something odd to be afoot. One letter, one you intercepted, was never sent. Another, her ladies maid posted directly, did reach me. When only one arrived, and you changed the venue of your wedding hastily, you only succeeded in confirming her suspicions."

Charlotte, horrified, swivelled around to face Benjamin. She searched his face for remorse, for any sign that what Sidney was saying was incorrect. "Is this true?" She watched as his face twisted and contorted, his innocent, gracious act suddenly dropped. He said nothing, which infuriated her. She stepped towards him, brazenly. "Have you really been spying on me, this whole time?"

Realising there was no more fooling her, Benjamin lashed out and pushed her to the ground, roughly, to try and get through to Sidney. She fell with a thud, mud splattering on her hideous gown. She watched from the floor as Sidney knocked Benjamin down with one single blow to the stomach. He then raced to help her up, gently, ensuring she was unharmed.

Benjamin watched the pair with envy and bitterness. "You always did win, didn't you Parker? Always got what you wanted. It's been that way since school. You never looked twice at me then, barely acknowledged me. Not now though, not when I have _her_. Just this once I wanted something you couldn't have."

As Sidney aided her to her feet, she stood over Benjamin, filled with utter betrayal. "Is that why you pursued me in France?" It was all starting to make sense now.

"Of course," he answered, sneeringly. This new man - though she knew he wasn't new, he had just never revealed this side of himself to her - repulsed her. "I wouldn't willingly go after somebody so far beneath me. You're nothing, Charlotte. Initially, I had only intended on ruining your reputation, but you just wouldn't open your legs to me." Sidney went to charge at him, but she held him back, determined to hear what Benjamin had to say for himself, no matter how vulgar. He scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off. "I wanted to know what had Parker here all hot and bothered about you. The more time I spent with you, I began to see it for myself. Yes, you disappointed my parents, but I would have a pretty young thing on my arm, somebody I could show off at balls and who could push out a few babies. I would also have _won_ , and that was the most delicious thing."

There was nothing she wanted to say to him. Didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she took them both by surprise and slapped him, forcefully. He lunged at her, menacingly, until Sidney took her hand and they ran in another direction. Beside the church was the horse he had ridden there on, waiting patiently. Charlotte, with ease, mounted the animal, Sidney seating himself behind her. She led the horse back to where Benjamin was stood, dumbfounded. Unable to wear it a second longer, she threw the ring down at him, hitting him right between the eyes.

"I apologise everybody, but the wedding is off," she announced the assembled crowd. Amongst them she found solace in the beaming faces of her dear friends. Her father, especially, looked rather proud of his daughter. "While there might not be a newlywed couple to celebrate, I assure you all that there is a lovely spread awaiting you all in Falmouth Hall. Good day!"

With that last farewell, she spurred the horse on, as they rode off together.

The sun was managing to break through the clouds, as Charlotte felt the clouds in her mind lift too. Suddenly everything was clear again. She knew where her future lay; with Sidney. That's all she had to be sure of, everything else they would face together.

They kept riding until they reached a grassy clifftop with a picturesque view of the ocean. Both of them were reminded of a similar clifftop in Sanditon, where they had shared their first kiss. Sidney dismounted first, and helped ease her down, his hands on her waist, his eyes never once leaving hers.

"You do make a lovely bride," he told her, softly.

She smiled up at him, noting that he hadn't removed his hands. "You can borrow the gown if you'd like, it's not really to my taste."

He laughed, licking his lips. "When we're wed, you can have any gown you desire," he promised. He brought one of his hands up to her chin, which he stroked delicately. His fingertips were warm, his gaze affectionate. He was looking at her as though she was his whole world, as though she was the only thing that mattered. "If you'll have me, that is."

"Of course I'll have you," she replied, her hands on his chest, tugging at his collar. She wanted him closer, never wanted to let him go again. "No getting out of it this time."

He snaked his other arm around her back, pulling in for a tighter embrace. "I've never stopped loving you."

"You're the only man I'll ever love, Sidney," she whispered, their noses brushing. With him she felt cherished, felt safe and secure. With him she felt everything that had been absent from her the moment he had left her in the summer.

"My dear Charlotte."

They kissed until all the stresses and pains of the last year were just a distant bad dream, and all they knew was the touch and love of one other. They would both look back on this moment for decades to come and know that this was when their lives truly began.


End file.
